Silence in the Desert, page 13
The Colonel continued. ‘The supply position is critical. In two days’ time, we’ll be out of ammunition. We’re already short of water despite an RAF drop of nearly two hundred litres, mainly for the wounded. As you know, the daily ration is down from one and a half litres per man, to one cupful.’
There was a murmur among the assembled company, only too aware of the situation.
‘General Koenig has received orders from 8th Army Headquarters to break out tomorrow night, and some initial planning on the direction of exit through the minefields has been done.’ Complete silence as everyone felt the shock of this announcement. ‘We’ll head for a rendezvous point south-west of Bir Hakeim where we’ll be met by the British, the Rifle Brigade and KRR whom we know and trust.’ He paused, and looked around the group before continuing.
‘The General insists it be a fighting retreat. Some of you will remember Norway, where we left behind all our matériel. He’s pointed out that here we have wounded legionnaires of German origin, and other nationalities whom the enemy would love to get their hands on. These men have fought for us and we owe it to them to bring them out.’ There was a rumble of agreement around the tent. ‘There’s to be a briefing of all available officers at nine o’clock this evening, at the General’s command post. The order in which the various units will break out is to be confirmed then. The troops will only be informed at the last moment, to avoid damage to morale.’
Henri, along with other officers including those who could be spared from the outlying defences, sat facing General Koenig. Alongside was Chief of Staff Masson, and Prince Amilakvari as CO of 13 DBLE, Robert Le Roux in command of the two colonial infantry battalions, and Commandant Amyot d’Inville of the Marine Fusiliers.
Koenig addressed the group. ‘Gentlemen, you know why I’ve asked you to join me this evening. Let’s go straight to the details. The break-out is not going to be a smooth operation. It has to be at night. The path through the minefields is unlikely to be broad enough to enable the rapid exit demanded. Should the Axis forces realize what’s happening, they’ll fire flares and light up the whole scene.’
There was some sucking in of breath as the danger faced became apparent to all.
The General explained which of the three gaps in the ‘V’ formation minefields should be the exit route. The gap towards the south-west was preferred, through which the Jock columns went out and came back. No enemy vehicles were sighted in that direction for some days. He added that the break-out would be in four phases. He then invited questions.
Captain Lamaze raised an arm. ‘What about those unable, who aren’t mobile?’
The General snapped back, ‘It’s going to be a fighting breakout, we’re not leaving any wounded behind.’
He continued. ‘In the first phase, all units will assemble in columns, en masse and in silence. Captain Gravier’s sappers will create a breach two hundred metres wide through which the columns will pass.
‘The second phase begins at “H” hour, when those infantry on foot will open the corridor and hold it free of enemy interference.
‘The third phase is the launch of the columns of vehicles down the corridor, guarded by the infantry on the left and right.
‘The fourth phase will be when the infantry on foot join the vehicle columns at the rendezvous point with British Army units. Any questions?’
Captain de Sairigné held up a hand. ‘Will there be any attempt to deceive the enemy, as to the direction of our objective?’
Koenig grimaced, almost a smile. ‘Yes, at the time of exit the columns of vehicles will head due west for the first ten kilometres, then turn due south to the rendezvous point. The intention is to avoid the enemy knowing our objective is south-west and launching an armoured column to destroy our infantry.’
Colonel Masson spoke up. ‘We have to be sure that all company commanders are clear as to these orders. Some are missing, particularly in the north where heavy fighting has been going on all day.’
Henri knew that Pierre Messmer’s company had been involved in furious combat in the north of the Bir Hakeim box, and communications with him had broken down.
The Chief of Staff continued. ‘The dead must all be buried and a cross placed on each provisional grave, with the name as legible and indelible as possible, marked clearly by surrounding stones so they can be identified when we return to honour those we’ve left behind. Other preparations during tomorrow will include fuelling to maximum all vehicles, and destruction of those to be left behind along with supplies not required. And we burn files and records we’re not taking with us.’
Leo looked at his watch. Just before midnight. The Legion infantry was in the vanguard, waiting for the signal to move forward, at the entrance to the passage between the minefields. Behind, he could see the mass of infantry. He knew that at the rear there were two hundred vehicles drawn up in two columns. The combat vehicles in front, the service trucks, and behind them the ambulances carrying the wounded. Rooky would be in there somewhere. Around them the Bren gun carriers, to give immediate protection.
Henri’s platoon and the rest of Captain Lamaze’s company moved forward through the minefields. Just through the corridor, suddenly all hell let loose. He presumed the enemy was alerted by the noise of engines, or earlier by the explosions of mines being cleared. The legionnaires deployed rapidly. The firing intensified. He realized the area just beyond their exit route was occupied by enemy forces. Was this an ambush, how strong was the enemy?
An astonishing spectacle broke out above their heads. Rockets and tracer ammunition in red, green, white. Those were not signal flares, he said to himself. Must be to show the French what they were up against. More flares. On the floodlit desert surface, he could make out three lines of enemy forces ahead, groups of heavy machine guns and other automatic weapons.
Henri’s platoon made contact with the opposition as they advanced steadily, destroying or neutralizing pockets of resistance. Beside him, the Adjutant went down, killed outright, a veteran Captain wearing his old helmet from the previous war. Then the worst happened. Company Commander Lamaze, charging at the head of his men in the fashion of the old Saint-Cyr-trained elite, was blown upwards, and fell forward onto the stone-littered sand. He moved to help him, calling forward a medical orderly who was at his side in no time, kneeling down to examine the body. The orderly looked up, fixed his eyes on Henri’s, and shook his head to say there was nothing to be done for the Company Commander. They’d lost him. Henri remembered how Lamaze mentioned the night before that he’d just taken Communion from Rooky. Somehow a premonition he wasn’t going to make it.
Henri glanced back. The Free French vehicles were streaming out of the corridor into open desert, heading indirectly for the rendezvous point. They enjoyed a degree of protection thanks to the infantry’s engagement with the opposition. He’d lost some of his own men, but suddenly those remaining in his platoon were through the enemy lines. The firing immediately around them stopped. Looking around, he saw two Bren carriers heading their way. As they were almost abreast of him, he waved them down.
‘Give us a lift,’ said Henri.
He recognized Pierre Messmer, who called out. ‘Of course, de Rochefort. Jump in, and the rest of you.’
‘Thanks. We thought we’d be walking there.’
‘Where’s Lamaze?’
Henri told him what happened. There was a long gap in their conversation. Then Messmer explained his own experience.
‘We’d no notice of the break-out until the last minute, when we managed to get back from the fighting up on the northern front. After the exit, I stopped to discuss the enemy positions with Captain Lalande, and lost touch with my men. We both made off together and walked slap into a German position. They were Boche watching the battle from a distance and not expecting a visit. The Captain speaks almost fluent German, and bluffed his way along with them. Then suddenly these two captured Bren carriers appeared and we shot them up.’
They drove on, Messmer periodically alighting to take a bearing as they headed for the rendezvous point, looking for the three red lights which would indicate the British reception committee.
‘Over there,’ shouted someone, and a cheer went up. The British faithful to their word, thought Henri.
‘Look at that,’ said Messmer. ‘Must be sixty trucks and nearly as many ambulances impeccably arranged in two lines. Fantastic sight. And armoured protection. We’ve made it.’
Henri glanced at the time. Six in the morning, and some of their comrades already there. The convoy of wounded arrived. The mass of other vehicles slowly rolled in. He noticed some commanders stretching prudence beyond the limit, going back to pick up casualties.
Masson arrived at the rendezvous point, wounded in the head, demanding that the British commanding officer provide him with an escort so he could recover survivors still out there.
‘Where’s the General?’ asked someone.
‘He had Amilak in his car, Susan Travers driving,’ said someone else. ‘Hope they get through to safety somewhere.’ Then word came through that Koenig and Amilakvari finally made it to a British armoured unit.
Henri asked about Rooky. He surfaced eventually and in one piece, thanks to Corporal Morel who’d stuck with him all the way.
Henri and Rooky stood together three days later when Pierre Koenig addressed his surviving officers and men, now at Sidi Barrani.
‘Tragically we’ve suffered many casualties during the escape, and lost others taken prisoner. The covering fire given by the British Light Infantry helped us avoid disaster. It may have felt like a shambles, perhaps it was, but two-thirds of those who started the battle at Bir Hakeim are still safe and will fight again.’ There was a spontaneous cheer.
The General continued. ‘I have here the transcript of a speech broadcast on the BBC by Maurice Schumann, General de Gaulle’s Foreign Minister designate. He describes on “Radio Londres” the action at Bir Hakeim as a “rendezvous d’honneur”, to stand alongside Verdun.’ He paused, then with characteristic self-deprecation, added ‘If you’d like my own view, I regard our performance overall as satisfactory.’
‘Well,’ said Rooky quietly to his former pupil, ‘you can thank your lucky stars that you’ve a general with his feet firmly in the sand. What’s next?’
‘Alexandria and Cairo, for a short rest.’
‘Oh,’ said Rooky. ‘This sudden silence in the desert won’t last for long.’
15
Frascati, June 1942
‘The battle of Gazala is over, the battle for Egypt has begun.’ His hero, that’s how Leo felt about Field Marshal Kesselring, stood facing his staff and senior officers of the Ramcke Brigade. He’d witnessed the Commander-in-Chief involving himself directly in the Gazala battle. When Rommel split command of his forces, taking for himself the German and Italian armoured formations to the south against the Free French forces at Bir Hakeim, the commander of the Axis forces in the north was taken prisoner. Leo was astonished when he heard that Kesselring was flying into the battle zone to take his place.
Alongside the Commander-in-Chief stood veteran parachute commander from the capture of Crete, General Ramcke.
‘You have just witnessed Rommel’s greatest success so far in the desert campaign. The rout of 8th Army along the Gazala line is having an important impact on our strategic thinking, and specifically on the plan to capture Malta. The Führer hasn’t forgotten the carnage inflicted on the Fallschirmjäger in the drop on Crete.’
There was a murmur of anticipation among the group.
‘After doubling back to take Tobruk, Rommel has successfully persuaded the Führer to abandon the invasion of Malta in favour of Axis forces advancing on Cairo and Suez. As a consequence, the Ramcke Parachute Brigade is being assigned to join the Afrika Korps in Egypt.’
Silence. Leo tensed up. A taste of real desert warfare. The realization in the minds of the audience. You could feel the tension in the air as this news sank in. The alternative could have been Stalingrad. Everyone knew the opening moves of the German attack on the great city on the Don were under way. Maybe it would be a walk-over but, should it not be, the Russian winter awaited the attackers.
Was Kesselring’s heart in this change of plan? Malta remained critical to the Allies’ attempts to block Rommel’s supply lines.
The Field Marshal turned towards the not so young, but tough-looking man at his side. ‘General Ramcke, please explain the detail to everyone.’
Ramcke stepped forward. ‘Initially, our task is to counter the success of the British Special Air Service which has been disrupting our supply lines and attacking Luftwaffe airfields. I then expect we’ll be ordered to join the main attack which’ll be launched on the new Allied defensive line running from the coast down to the Qattara Depression. If Deutsche Afrika Korps and the re-trained Italian formations including the Folgore, can take Cairo, then the Suez Canal and Palestine will be wide open to us. You know what that means. The oilfields of Iraq and Iran.’
Leo realized that desert warfare would be everyone’s vote, when the alternative was Stalingrad. Then his mind switched to the Geheimschreiber encryption machines. He must find the right person to take over from him, their protection was paramount. Should the British get their hands on them and break into the encryption, they would read the messages from the Führer to Rommel. That could be the end for them all.
‘Captain.’ Leo felt a hand on his shoulder, as he made his way to the Mess for lunch. It was Colonel Metting, from OKW/Chi, the High Command’s cryptologic centre.
‘Colonel, sir.’ Leo responded to Metting’s Nazi salute, and his Heil Hitler. ‘How good to see you again.’
‘Yes, Captain. I hear you’ve done an excellent job in ensuring the secrecy and security of the Geheimschreiber installation, the Lorenz machines. I’m making a short visit to HQ here. There’s something which the Field Marshal and I believe you could assist us with.’
Leo felt himself immediately on the alert when he heard the reference to Kesselring. ‘I’d be pleased to help if I can.’
Metting led the way to a small room in the main HQ building. Coffee was brought in by an orderly, and the Colonel opened his briefcase and laid out some documents on the table between them. He looked directly at Leo, and started to speak in his machine-like monotone voice. ‘Captain Beckendorf, I know you’re familiar with the importance of wireless interception in this war. An outstanding example of its role is the use which General Rommel has put it to. Captain Seeböhm, commander of the Afrika Korps Radio Intercept Company, is constantly listening to British military radio traffic.’
‘Yes, Colonel. I can imagine that signals interception is even more effective in desert warfare because both sides are on the move much of the time. Identifying the other side’s order of battle, the location of their units, must be crucial.’
‘Precisely. Rommel has to know the strength of the forces he’s up against, their location, their plans, and the timing of advances and withdrawals. To deliver this need requires intelligent people trained in such specialized work. As you know, his radio intercept unit in the field is not Rommel’s only source. OKW/Chi supplies him with top-secret intelligence traffic flowing from the Cairo embassy of the United States to Washington. You will recall our earlier discussion on the subject.’
‘Yes, Colonel, the breaking of the US diplomatic code.’
‘Correct. We read the US State Department’s Black Code, as it’s called, and decrypt the reports including those from the source in Cairo. Cairo’s reports detail the British military status in North Africa. We then pass the information to Rommel.’ Metting waited for a moment, then said ‘Captain Beckendorf, we are asking you to oversee the security of General Rommel’s communications with OKW and Field Marshal Kesselring.’
Leo was unsure what this really meant. On the face of it, he on his own could never manage such a broad undertaking. ‘Naturally, sir, I will take on whatever you and the Field Marshal ask me to handle. My worry, though, is whether such a task is within my capabilities.’
‘Captain, we’re referring specifically to the Geheimschreiber machines. Two of these machines, like the Lorenz SZ-40 here, are being installed at Rommel’s desert HQ. Your official role will be as General Ramcke’s intelligence officer, but we want you to maintain oversight of the security of Field Marshal Rommel’s long-range transmission equipment.’
‘So, I would have to alert you to anything which might threaten the high-level information flowing between OKW and Rommel’s HQ.’
‘Exactly. Just think for a moment about the consequences of such information falling into enemy hands, at the point where we are about to take Cairo.’
16
Benghazi, June 1942
‘We face an unusual situation.’ The nurses were seated in the canteen of the Wehrmacht base hospital. The Luftwaffe senior medical officer faced them. ‘There’s a shortage of nursing teams with the forward units at the new line which the enemy is holding from El Alamein to the Qattara Depression. You know that only male medical staff are sent into the front line, normally.’
There was a murmur among the women, a tremor of expectation.
‘I’m asking for volunteers. It will be hazardous, and those with dependents back in Germany should think twice before volunteering. Any of you willing to go forward should give your names to the senior Medical Officer after this briefing.’
Theresa remembered the advice from the Reverend Mother when she was preparing herself back at the convent outside Munich. ‘Elisabeth, when you become Theresa, don’t stand out and be noticed. Go with the crowd. Be yourself and positive with your work, but don’t draw attention to yourself.
The meeting broke up. She had to decide. The consequence of her real self being found out was too terrible to think about. A Jewish woman in disguise, in a front line unit of the Afrika Korps. She would be taken and, if lucky, shot as a spy. More likely, the Gestapo would find out and move her to somewhere where they could interrogate her. She would suffer terribly before she died. Yet she knew they wouldn’t be asking for female nurses unless the need was critical. Something inside her was saying she should volunteer. She wasn’t encumbered with commitments back home, wherever home now was for her. The advice ‘be yourself’ surely meant she should do what she would normally do, were all else equal.
