John Schettler - Crescendo of Doom

As for my own armor, it will not support the infantry. Wherever the British heavy armor appears, my own lighter tanks will maneuver elsewhere. These tanks cannot be everywhere, and the desert is a very big place. So we will use maneuver against this implacable enemy rock. From all accounts, they do not have many of these fearsome new tanks, so perhaps we can flow around them like water… As long as I can still keep my forward elements supplied. I will need to secure a good place for a forward depot, and this time I will also need to take Tobruk. I bypassed it before, but I cannot allow the British to sit there as a thorn in my backside if I plan to push into Egypt again.

In the meantime, this campaign in Syria has already drained resources that were supposed to come to me. I have already lost the 1st Mountain Division. In fact Kubler’s entire mountain Korps was sent to Syria, along with some very good mobile divisions. Now it is their turn to face these enemy tanks. Yes, the British must have used the rail lines through Alexandria to move reinforcements to their Syrian operation. They have committed their heavy tanks there, and by god, they stopped 9th Panzer Division in its tracks. Even the 5th SS Wiking Division was forced to do exactly what I have done here—deploy on defense. Yet this may have weakened the enemy strength on my front. Perhaps now is the time to make my move. While the cat is away…

The orders he soon had in hand put the wind in his spirits for the first time since Bir el Khamsa. ‘Given the imminent opening of our final campaign in Russia, it is imperative that we now do all things possible to unhinge the British defense in the Middle East. In light of the determined British attack into Syria, you will now plan and execute an immediate offensive operation aimed at again threatening the British position in Egypt, with the initial aim of capturing Tobruk.’

Good enough, thought Rommel, but capturing Tobruk may not be as easy to do in the field as it might be to order on paper. Those two Australian divisions will fall back on Tobruk when I renew my advance, so I must assemble a shock force capable of punching through to take the place. But what if the British deploy those monster tanks there? They know the value of Tobruk, and will fight like demons to hold it. If my attack there is to have any chance of success, then I must also mount a compelling threat to Alexandria, aimed at diluting the defense of Tobruk and compelling the enemy to deploy his best armor to stop my panzers. They will want to use those tanks to smash my own armor again, so I must be very cagey. My panzers will be the cape of the matador, flashing and luring with their speed and mobility.

Time to dance.

He stood up, the day fine and clear, with the heat still not too oppressive as May began. 5th Light, 15th Panzers, 90th Light, Grossdeutschland Regiment, the Hermann Goering Brigade… Now I finally have a force to be reckoned with, and the supplies to operate for an extended period. Now I get my zweiten kommen , my second coming. Now I rise from the defeat I suffered at Bir el Khamsa, and avenge my losses. It will not be for the medals this time, but for the men I lost there. I owe them that much, and more. I owe them victory.

Dear Lu, he thought, his loving wife in mind again. It is said that destiny calls three times in a man’s life. My first calling was in the Great War when I won this Blue Max and the other medals on my chest. My second call was in France with the 7th Panzers. Now I get my greatest chance. Destiny is calling me out again, and I must not fail to answer, or meet the challenge before me.

Who will I be up against this time? Will the British send O’Connor out to challenge me as before? He is good, perhaps the one man they have who knows how to use those new tanks of theirs. His offensive against Graziani was nothing short of masterful. In the end, I was able to come here and push him back only because of the very same reasons my own offensive failed—lack of supply. By the time he cut off Cyrenaica, and drove to Agheila, his armored divisions had practically melted away to nothing.

I must not allow that to happen to my boys this time around. I will not drive them with the whip as I did before. No. This time the advance will be well planned, methodical. Flank security will be paramount, adequate fuel, water and supplies essential. When we get within striking distance of Tobruk, I want my men fresh and ready for the fight. For something tells me the entire campaign here hinges on that battle. I must have Tobruk, but cannot allow that necessity to stop my advance east.

Even as he thought this, he knew the outcome of this new offensive was far from certain. The British will have taken the time to also reinforce their own armored formations. Abwehr spies in Cairo and Alexandria have been watching arrivals from the Suez very carefully. The British have been moving heavy equipment at night by rail, or so they tell me, but mainly east into Palestine to support their Syrian offensive. So what have they left for me here?

Something tells me they do not have the strength to conduct any meaningful offensive against me now. No. They have chosen to stand on defense here while they try to win through in Syria. So now they get another battle. I move tomorrow morning, and let us see what comes out to answer the challenge. Will O’Connor lead in those fearsome new tanks and dare me to advance?

We shall see…

“Notthere, damn your eyes man. That’s no place for a shore battery. Mount it there, on those headlands!” The wiry man, somewhat scrawny in appearance, was at it yet again, much to the chagrin of the officers and lorry men he was bothering. He seemed to be everywhere now, sticking that thin nose of his into every bunker and building on the home island. As much as the men rued his coming, they knew better than to say anything about it that might be overheard by the man. General Bernard Montgomery was no one to fool with.

The man had been shot clean through the right lung by a German sniper in the First Great War, but returned to fight at Arras and Passchendaele again. He caught Wavell’s eye in Palestine when he commanded the 8th Infantry Division, then went home to take over the 3rd Division in time to see action in France. Under his taught rein of command, Montgomery brought the Iron Division home from Dunkirk largely intact. Once he got home, however, his meddlesome ways and frank, biting criticism of the way the army was led in France, earned him few friends.

Rising to command the V Corps at home, his ascorbic temperament, and penchant for meticulous attention to every detail of his command, soon saw him locking horns with General Auchinlek. He pushed his men hard, with rigorous training and fitness drilling. No one knew just why he was summarily sent back to Palestine. Some said it may have been to simply rid the home islands of the man, but a few knew the real reason—Churchill.

The exploits and exhortations of Montgomery had come to the attention of the Prime Minister, though no one knew the real reason for Montgomery’s sudden new orders. It was, in fact, that quiet chat with the young Russian Captain in the desert oasis of Siwa that led to the call, destiny tapping the shoulder of another man as the war began to heat to the boiling point.

“Tell me,” Churchill had asked quietly, being careful not to step on the toes of General Wavell, who also attended that meeting and was acting as Churchill’s translator in the discussion with Fedorov. “You have let on that we end up winning this war, and for that light at the end of the tunnel I am most grateful. I know there are a thousand details, and perhaps a thousand battles to be fought before we prevail, and I have heeded your warning that the history isn’t quite cooperating this time around. A bit like coming home to the wife and finding she’s gained thirty pounds overnight!” Churchill smiled, sipping his brandy by the fire.