“That is what I have come to discuss,” said Rommel. “Yes, they are pushing, and it will be a slow grind.”
“That is all I hear from Manstein these days,” said Hitler. “He pushed over the Don three weeks ago, but he still hasn’t taken Volgograd. Yet have you heard the good news? Knobelsdorff has pushed all the way to Rostov. 11th Panzer has tanks in the city even now. This will cut off the entire Donets Basin, and isolate all the remaining resistance there from any support they might get from the Kuban. What, have you returned to celebrate your Birthday early? What is it you need?”
“As always, tanks, fuel, weapons.”
“7th Panzer Division wasn’t enough?”
“Ah, that was a most welcome gift. I am assuming it will be sent to Tripoli, which is perfect for what I have planned. With that division, I can resume the offensive in a matter of a week or two.”
“Offensive? I have not heard that word from you for a very long time. Frankly, after Gazala I was beginning to think you had lost your edge. What offensive?”
Rommel cleared his voice, knowing this would be the moment of truth. Hearing the word “plan,” Halder and Keitel drifted over, standing by the map table.
“My Führer,” said Rommel. “The point of all these operations in North Africa has always been one thing—to beat the British 8th Army. We have been at it like a pair of bulldogs for well over a year, and though the new tanks we are beginning to receive have helped a great deal, that British heavy tank is still unbeatable. But the British have grown overbold this time. Even though most of their veteran Commonwealth divisions have gone home to fight the Japanese, they have replaced them with three new divisions sent from England. O’Connor now has six infantry divisions and two armored, with an additional supporting armored brigade.”
“That heavy brigade you fear so much?”
“No my Führer, that is the good news. The Luftwaffe spotted that unit moving towards Tobruk. It is deep in reserve, and it appears O’Connor has a mind to attack without it. After losing 10th Panzer to von Arnim, and all of Goring’s troops, I still had no option other than to sit stubbornly on defense. I cannot fight eight British Divisions with four of my own, and we both know the four Italian divisions I still have would be useful on defense, but not in the attack. Their equipment is simply obsolete now. The British are fielding armored cars with better armor and guns than the Italian medium tanks!”
“Yes, yes,” Hitler waved his hand. “No one ever expected to see the Italians leading the way to Alexandria. I had hope in your promise, Rommel, but instead you gave the British all of Cyrenaica.”
“Useless sand,” said Rommel. “If you want it, I can give it back to you after 7th Panzer arrives, but as I said at the beginning, that is not the point of these operations. If I ever have a chance to win through to Egypt again, I must first beat the British 8th Army, and decisively.”
“Yes, but the opposite has been true,” said Keitel.
“None of those so called British victories was ever decisive,” said Rommel quickly. “But I did not come here to fight those battles again with OKW staff. When I got the news of 7th Panzer Division, I knew everything had changed. I don’t have to sit behind my minefields and wire any longer, taking a pounding day after day from the British artillery and the RAF.”
“You plan to attack?” said Halder, crossing his arms.
“Of course, but certainly not from where I sit now. I need room to fight a mobile battle, not a grinding battle of attrition. So this is what I plan to do. The British have all that useless sand in Cyrenaica, and they are flushed with what they perceive as a victory. That was nothing. I gave them that to preserve the Afrika Korps. That was the only important thing that happened at Gazala. I preserved the bulk of the Army entrusted to my command—so we could fight again another day. And now I believe that day has come. Look here,” he pointed to the map. “That is some of the worst ground for mobile operations in all of North Africa. Now look here—Tripolitania has good terrain for such a battle. There I can put the maxims of Truppenführung to good use—combined arms, maneuver, speed in the attack. On such ground I can dance around the British Army and chop it to pieces. When I have done that, then they will give all the useless sand in that desert behind them back to me, and my Führer, I will pass it on to you.”
“Exactly where do you propose to fight this battle?” asked Halder.
“In Tripolitania. The exact place does not matter, and the time will be the right moment of opportunity as I see it. A battle of maneuver needs room, and good footing for the panzers. That is the only place I will find it now, because I will certainly not waste my forces trying to push through the narrow defile where I presently sit. So this is what I plan.”
He leaned over the map, pointing as he spoke, indicating where he had positioned his reserve fuel at Buerat, telling them how he would lure O’Connor forward, thinking he had won yet another victory at Mersa Brega, stressing how the British might feed only one or two infantry divisions through that bottleneck at a time, making them vulnerable to defeat in detail. Nowhere in his discourse did he ever use the word ‘withdrawal,’ and certainly not its surly brother, ‘retreat.’ Instead he said I will redeploy here, maneuver there, command the ground on the enemy flank, envelop, enfilade, engage, crush. They were just the sort of words the Führer liked to hear, and to finish it all off, he seized upon the startling progress made by Knobelsdorff’s 48th Panzer Korps in the last few days.
“Look what Knobelsdorff has done in just 48 hours when he can fight a battle of maneuver—Blitzkreig! Angreifen! He has gained more ground than all of Steiner’s SS has in the last three weeks. Let me do this, my Führer, and I promise you I will smash the 8th Army, and eliminate the threat of further advance from the east. Then we can turn and smash the Americans in the west, and when we have finished with them, Kesselring and I will turn and chase O’Connor all the way to the Nile.”
Hitler stood in silence for a moment, his eyes looking over the map. Neither Halder nor Keitel said anything, as they expected the plan to be immediately rejected, because it required the abandonment of the Mersa Brega Line. To their great surprise, Hitler straightened, clasped his arms behind his back, looked his favorite General in the eye, and smiled.
“Herr Rommel,” he said. “I have heard such boastful talk from you before, and the Nile River is still very far away. That said, you have my permission to fight your battle. The Italians will squeal a bit, but I will settle them down. I will tell Mussolini that we are reinforcing the Afrika Korps and planning this big new offensive, because that is what we will do. In addition to the 7th Panzer Division, you will receive the best weapons; the best new tanks we have, and adequate air support. Did you get a close look at the new Tigers? You can have the pick of the litter as they come out of the factories. Take all the 88s you need. But if I give you this latitude, all this new equipment, you must not let me down. Take these new tanks and kick the British back into Egypt. Earn that Field Marshall’s baton I have just given you. General Rommel, take your Tigers east!”
Part VII
Falling Star
“Unseen in the background, Fate was quietly slipping lead into the boxing-glove.”
Chapter 19
The fighting in North Africa was beginning to heat up. In the west, the British had begun to move more naval forces through the Straits of Gibraltar to cover the port of Oran. The 43rd Wessex Division would move there, and move by road to support the American attack on Algiers. Patton had no intention of making a direct attack on the city. His part was to cover the approaches from the west, which he did with the 34th Division. They had tried to take the town and airfield of Blida from the Germans, but 327th Infantry would not budge, and 34th division commander General Ryder suspended his attack to wait for the British.