“Then it will hit thin air,” said Kesselring. “That will be most disconcerting for them. We must use the terrain skillfully here, slow them down on the narrow roads through all these mountains.” He waved his hand over the map, his mind already rating terrain features for their defensive merit. In the old history, Kesselring had been a master of the art of defense, which he clearly demonstrated during the battle for Sicily and fighting in Italy. A Luftwaffe General, he had always fought with his beloved Fallschirmjagers, and to see them summarily taken from him now was a hard blow.
“Thin air,” said von Arnim bitterly. “That is a very apt description of our front line if we have to give up those troops.”
“Come now,” said Kesselring, always the optimist, which is why he was often called “Smiling Albert” by other officers. “I have been sending over a lot of service troops with the Siebel ferry deliveries. I have flak units, and I’ve used these men to form a number of ad hoc battalions—some motorized with the supply column trucks. I have five March Battalions and another five leg battalions in and around Tunis. The Italians are also promising us more help. We will just have to make do with what we have. It can’t be helped.”
“What about Rommel?” said von Arnim bitterly. “He just stole away the 501st Schwerepanzer battalion, and he has more troops in Libya than he really needs to defend Tripoli.”
“What? Rommel? He’s still whining that you have his 10th Panzer Division. No, I’m afraid getting anything from him now will be like pulling a tooth without anesthetic. This General O’Connor is getting ready for a big push on Tripoli.”
“Undoubtedly timed for the big push here on Tunis,” said von Arnim bitterly.
“Don’t worry,” said Kesselring. “Rommel will stop them. He’s had a little taste of victory again after Mersa Brega.”
“Oh? You call that a victory? He withdrew all the way to Tarhuna—abandoned that line at Buerat over the objection of Bastico and even Mussolini.”
“Yes, he can be infuriating at times, but that line at Buerat was useless. Now he’s in a much better position at Tarhuna. He can hold there easily, if he doesn’t get any notion about racing off to Alexandria again.”
“Then tell him I need support here.”
“I will see what I can do for you. In the meantime, I will get the 15th Infantry to Tunis as quickly as possible. Begin pulling out tonight, and all the air mobile units get priority on the available rolling stock. It’s too risky to move them by plane.”
Von Arnim was resigned to his fate, though he would stew about this, and quite bitterly, for some time after. There was already little love between him and Rommel. Now he saw this as yet another example of Rommel throwing his Blue Max around and getting his way at the dinner table, while his own command would have to gnaw at any bone that happened to fall on the floor.
“What is happening, Albert?” he asked his superior officer, knowing him well enough to be on a first name basis like that.
“I don’t have all the details,” said Kesselring, but Goring is sending Auntie Ju to Greece in droves.” Auntie Ju was the nickname the Germans had given to their stolid Ju-52 transport planes. “I think there’s a big operation in the offing. They want Student’s troops, and that means an air operation is forthcoming, possibly at Crete.”
“Crete? That operation was cancelled long ago.”
“You know how Hitler’s mind works. He never quite got over the failure of Operation Condor. Frankly, Crete should have been taken long ago. We’re lucky we had the presence of mind to take Malta when we did. If we had not done so when the British were weak there, they would have made that place a real thorn in our belly. Now I fear that Crete will be a much tougher nut to crack as well.”
“Then Hitler is willing to trade what’s left of Algeria for that island? Doesn’t he realize what these orders of his will do here?”
“Whether he realizes it or not hardly matters,” said Kesselring. “At least this time I won’t have to gnash my teeth to choose ground I want when it involves a withdrawal. We must fight hard here, be very stubborn, but I will have a new line in place for you when you get further east. This sector looks promising.”
Kesselring pointed at the map, running his finger. “This sector here, between Khenchela and the pass south of Ain Beida must be held. It screens the American access to Tebessa, and you know that they will want that as their forward base for a push into central and southern Tunisia.”
“Correct,” said von Arnim with a shrug. “Batna was the cork in the bottle, but if Kubler has to go, I’ll try to fight a delaying action there with Fischer’s 10th Panzer.”
“Use that as a hinge to anchor your defense in the south. Then swing all the rest back east, like a door opening. We’ll try and run the line up through Constantine to Philippeville on the coast. That’s the best we can do for now. After that, we fall back to Tebessa itself, which becomes the new southern hinge, and then run the line up through Mesoula to Souk Ahras to Bone on the coast, right along this rail line.”
“They’ll pick up quite a few airfields.”
“We can’t help that. But I’ll make certain that we get our planes and service crews out early. We’ve plenty of good fields around Tunis and Bizerte. Those ports are the key to this whole theater, along with Tripoli. If we lose those, it’s over.”
“Alright, Herr General, I will do what I can with the panzer divisions, and if you can get anything more from Rommel, it would certainly help.”
That very day, the withdrawal began, as surreptitiously as the Germans could make it. Heavy equipment was pulled off the line and loaded on trucks, but mines were laid liberally to delay any pursuit. Bridges were wired for demolition, the unused portion of the rail lines wrecked, and then, after night fell, the troops formed up columns and proceeded with all headlights out, guided by a single vehicle in the van.
The following morning, the 3rd of January, Montgomery kicked off his offensive in the typical grand way with a massive bombardment. The shells fell on abandoned positions, blasted away wire, detonated mines, but did little more than kick up a lot of dirt and dust. Then the 2nd Lothian Border Horse led the way for 6th Armored Division, advancing along the coastal rail line from Bougie. Surprised to find no real resistance, they met and drove off a small flak company the 22nd Luftland had left along a river near Les Falais.
1st Derbyshire Yeomanry followed, pushing over the river at a shallow segment and continuing the advance until they met the Schwere company of 22nd Recon Battalion. Then 16th and 17th Lancers came up, with a mix of Churchills, Valentines and Crusader IIIs. The only hindrance they encountered was from above, where Kesselring had the Luftwaffe out to interdict the key roads and go after any columns of opportunity.
Further inland the 3rd Mixed Division led with the 43rd RTR from its 33rd Armored Brigade, and then the 1st Grenadier Guards Infantry Battalion. About 15 kilometers on, they found a bridge blown and there seemed to be no way around it for the tanks. A small group of German flak guns began firing on the Grenadiers, prompting the tanks to load H.E. shells and return with a massed volley. Then the infantry worked around two sides of the enemy position to clear it out, but the blown bridge was going to need engineers.
Monty thought things were going swimmingly, until reports indicated no serious fighting anywhere along his line of advance. By day’s end, he would have his troops strung out along the few good roads, with the columns stretching back some 50 kilometers to a point well beyond Bougie.