“What is that?” Hitler pointed to the main armament on the new tank.
“At the moment, we have mounted it with our best version of the 88mm gun. The new Lions will use a 90mm gun.”
“But I am told the Russians are building tanks with 122mm main guns. If they can do this, and the British, then we will do the same. Put a bigger gun on this tank. Now… What about the armor? I don’t suppose you are using diamond studded teacups?”
That got a ripple of laughter, which died out quickly. Then the Technician explained that the Tiger II would have armor in the range of 100mm made of welded maraging steel, known to produce superior strength and toughness. But Hitler simply raised a hand, stopping the man. “Can our existing weapons penetrate this armor?”
“Yes, that is possible. Our 88s can penetrate just over 150mm at 2000 meters.”
“Well what good is this tank then?” Hitler gave him a wide eyed look. “Unless you can armor it to resist the enemy’s weapons, it will be nothing more than a waste of good steel. Improve the armor! Put a larger gun on it, and that goes for the new Lions as well. Rommel told me he would be in Cairo by now if not for that new British tank, and finally seeing it, I fully believe him. You must do better than this. Make it stronger! Improve the main gun. I want panzers that can master any opponent encountered on the battlefield.”
He gave the Technician a level stare. “And do this quickly,” he said, turning and striding off with his officers in tow.
Montgomery was up early that morning, eager for news from 10th Armored. He had learned that O’Connor was back in the game, teeing up an offensive in the south. Now, as he considered the situation, he was forced to accept the fact that Patton was on to something. The real battle wasn’t with his position on the coast. The terrain was too constricted. He couldn’t use his armor in anything other than penny packet fashion. The infantry was slogging its way forward, but if the enemy flank could be turned in the south, this line would be forced to retreat.
At 10:00 he got on the phone to Eisenhower telling him what he and Patton had worked out. “It’s a gamble, but I’ll raise that bet,” he said. “I have it in mind to send my 6th Armored south right on the heels of the 10th. This fight on the coast is for the infantry, and I’ve enough tank support organic to those divisions as it stands. Patton wants Souk Ahras, and I rather tend to agree with him.”
That shocked Eisenhower for a moment, but with his two senior field commanders in actual agreement on something, and in the very process of carrying that plan out, he gladly gave the move his blessing.
“Oh by the way,” Monty finished. “I’m sure you’re aware that O’Connor’s back in it. Don’t worry Ike, we’ll handle things.”
Eisenhower gave that a wan smile, knowing that Monty was seeing this whole situation as the British Armies riding to the rescue of the Americans, but he said nothing.
O’Connor was definitely a factor now. Though his armored force was still not replenished after the battle at Tarhuna, he still had strong tank brigades at his disposal, and very good infantry divisions that were going to be more than a match for the Italians. He then consolidated his remaining tanks to flesh out 1st Armored Division, sending most of the 7th Armored Brigade units back to Benghazi for shipment to Haifa. They were needed more in Syria than they were here in Tunisia. He would retain 22nd Armored Brigade, and along with 1st Armored and the strong 23rd Armored Brigade, he would have more than enough to support his infantry.
That morning, he decided to throw his hardest punch right in the center of the enemy line, at Medinine. There he committed the remaining tanks of 1st Armored, and the 44th Home County Division, supported by lavish artillery bombardments. Right behind that attack, he brought up the tough 51st Highland Division, with 23rd Armored ready to make the exploitation upon breakthrough. He gave scant attention to the two Italian divisions on the flank of that attack, knowing that if he broke the center, they would have no choice other than to abandon their prepared positions and retreat.
The Pistoia was the division on the line at the point of that attack, and by the time Monty was having his chat with Eisenhower, it was already falling back. General Falugi did all he could, but faced with 200 British tanks backed by waves of infantry, his men simply could not stand. The Italians would answer mainly with their artillery, but it would not be enough, and their AT guns were inadequate, their own tanks far to the rear as a last ditch reserve behind the Germans.
In truth, Rommel had placed the Italian infantry there simply as a trip wire and delaying force, knowing it would not hold long against the 8th Army on its own. He had designed a layered defense in the south, with the first line at Medinine, the main central line along the wadi at Mareth, and a final line at Gabes. He reasoned that a clock would be ticking the minute O’Connor engaged the first line, and now he might have ten days to two weeks before that front would be critical.
He hadn’t counted on the Pistoia Division retiring completely to Mareth instead of trying to fight a defensive withdraw aimed at delaying the British advance. This was the same division that had thrown itself at the 8th Army in an attempt to unhinged Monty’s planned offensive against Mareth. It failed to do so in that history, and it would do no better in this one. The loss of that centermost division in the line did exactly what O’Connor knew it would, and compelled the other two on the flanks to withdraw as well.
There was, however, some advantage to this. The hasty withdrawal of the Italians would now add their strength to the main line at Mareth. O’Connor would not be able to trap those troops or force their surrender before they could escape. He surveyed the scene, realizing that he had a good battering ram right behind his main attack with the 51st Highland Division, and a solid hammer with 23rd Armored Brigade. He had every confidence that he would eventually break through.
Mid-day on the 7th of February, Patton had another call to make, this time to General Truscott, who was acting Corps commander for the two Armored divisions.
“Lucian? Look, I know I’ve been stepping all over your toes in this thing, but it’s just the old horse cavalry officer in me.” Patton’s domineering presence had reduced Truscott to a rubber stamp for his orders, and he knew the man was better than that. He apologized, then floated a proposal.
“I sent Bradley to roust Fredendall out of bed and kick his ass back to Oran. The man is no good. Brad was going to try and pull II Corps staff together at grid point G7, but I need him here. I was wondering if I can interest you in a new job, considering I’ve had my fingers in your pie all week. Do you think you could get out there and take over II Corps for the duration of this fight? If you want the Armored Corps back when we’ve finished, it’s still yours.”
“Alright,” said Truscott. “You owe me one, General.”
“Lucian, you’re a good man.”
“Well sir, it isn’t often that a three star General taps you on the shoulder at the ball. These are good troops here I’ve been dancing with. Ward’s a little shaky, but Robinette and Oliver can get the job done. Harmon is as solid as granite. You can rely on him.”
“And that I will. I’d like to keep 2nd Armored down here, but When this thing settles down I’m going to send you Ward’s whole division. That will flesh out II Corps, and I’ll create a Provisional Corps with the 1st, 34th and 2nd Armored. Fair enough?”
“Fair enough, General.”
Patton wanted Truscott to know that he valued him and saw him as essential to the future of the American war effort, which he was. Lucian Truscott would go on to become perhaps the toughest and finest US field commander of the war.