Hey John.. here's a piece of a work of fiction project of mine to whet your appetite. :)
The Mediterranean Coast
Southeast of Mersa Matruh, Egypt
Morning, November 8, 1942
Final Running of the Benghazi Stakes
"Well Helmut, it would appear that ‘The Benghazi Stakes', as Tommy has named these delightful desert adventures we have shared, may very well be running for the last time. This is indeed a great shame as the Americans are just now arriving to join in the fun."
The commander of a precious Panzer Mk IVF2 tank, the Mk IV "Special" as the Allies called it, was scanning the desert terrain to his front with a pair of worn Zeiss binoculars carefully cupped in his hands to prevent sunlight from flashing off of the glass lenses. Leaning comfortably against the side of his open commander's hatch on top of the Mk IV's turret, Unterfeldwebel Michael Altschul had been wistfully speaking out loud to himself as much as he was to his driver Gefreiter Helmut Kruger.
The remainder of the five man tank crew listening to their commander's musings over the intercom were just the latest study group to find themselves assigned to a panzer with the nickname "Das Schulhaus"… The School House. They were a willing audience because out of the entire 21st Panzer Division that had been nearly completely destroyed in the debacle of their defeat at El Alamein and the brutal retreat west, there were a total of 4 tanks left in service. One of those was Altschul's panzer because his fighting skill as a panzer commander, as well as his considerable luck, had brought them through.
It was legend in the regiment that "students" manning the gunner, loader, and bow machine gunner/radio operator positions of The School House were men who would learn the skills required of panzer crewmen, would survive their education, and would move up to positions of greater responsibility on other combat vehicles. With the casualty rates suffered so far in the desert war, if there were tanks available there were always plenty of spots to fill. Just now, though, as re-supply operations had been all but eradicated by the Royal Air Force's incessant attacks on their rear areas, they were happy to be on one of the few remaining tanks left that was capable of putting up a fight.
The prospect of transfer did not apply to the driver. Helmut had been Altschul's crewman and friend ever since the two served together in a two man Panzer Mk I in Spain in the late 30's. They were there during what came to be known as The Spanish Civil War with other German "volunteers" fighting to support the Fascist government of Franco against the Soviet "volunteers" fighting for the communist Republican opposition.
They were also there gaining valuable combat experience that would be of great use to the Wehrmacht, the German Army, in the coming years.
Helmut knew he wasn't going anywhere this panzer and its commander weren't going. Wherever Michael Altschul went with his tank he would be the man driving him there. Neither of them would have had it any other way.
Not unknown in the desert during winter months, heavy rainfall and flash flooding in low areas over the last two days had made wheeled transport impossible anywhere except on the few improved surface roads. The pursuing British 8th Army was held in place because their masses of wheeled transports were bogged down in the wet sand until things dried out enough to dig them out. The Germans were held in place not only by the same conditions, but also because they were out of fuel.
Stalemate.. and if the British began to move again before the Germans did it would mean the last stand of 21st Panzer and the final destruction of the division.
Earlier that morning, the panzer regiment commander had ordered what little fuel was left drained from vehicles he planned to abandon as combat losses and had it transferred to his four remaining tanks. Instructions to the crews were given by him personally as was his nature when things were going to be rough.
"We've been ordered to provide panzer support to 90th Light Division's rear guard positions and that's where I'm sending you. Don't die out there today, meine Jungen. Stay mobile, stay alive, and keep the British off of me until I can get my hands on some fuel and get what's left of the regiment moving again. Once you have slowed them down by bloodying their nose and forcing them to deploy, break contact and run like hell. Meet me at map reference point 7, and we'll move out together from there. Verstanden?"
Looking at the map, Altschul saw that reference point 7 was a position on the coastal road well to the west of Mersa Matruh. What he understood fully was that point was exactly where the British were headed in overwhelming force in an attempt to cut off the retreat of Afrika Korps and that he had just been assigned to the rear guard committed to slowing them down.
He knew his odds of actually making it that far were not very sporting, but he'd been in worse spots before. Like the spot he'd been in just a few days ago.. at El Alamein.
"Jawohl, Herr Oberst!" Altschul and the other three panzer commanders penciled in the location of the battle positions and rally point on their maps, saluted their commander, and headed back to their tanks.
Two of the panzers, Mk III's armed with a 5cm main gun, were sent to the northeast to support the 90th's outpost that covered the coastal road. There were also two of the tank killing 8.8cm FlaK guns in place there as the hard road surface back to the town made their halftrack prime movers capable of rapidly pulling them back when the time came to break contact.
Altschul's Mk IV and the other Mk III were sent to the southeast where the outpost covered the less improved desert trails that ran mostly parallel to the main coastal highway. This was a much less likely place for the British to advance with wheeled vehicles but the most likely spot for their tanks to use to try to make an end around sweep of the German positions to cut them off from the coastal road and further retreat to the west.
As the wheeled carriages of the 88's and other types of heavy guns couldn't make it to this isolated position after the rains, Altschul's Mk IV "Special" was the best mobile anti-tank support available. The reason that Tommy called his type of Mk IV a "Special" was because it came with a much longer 7.5cm main gun than the earlier Mk IV's were equipped with. The longer length provided a tremendous muzzle velocity for its armor piercing rounds, and even the big Grant and Sherman tanks the Americans had provided to the British stood little chance against it.
On the way back to their panzers, Altschul gave his instructions to the commander of his Mk III wingman. "Stay at least 100 meters from me and the 90th Light's positions to avoid being caught together in the same artillery or air strike. After we get into position, move around as slowly as you can to avoid kicking up a dust trail. With the sun up, this mess will dry up quickly and we don't want to help Tommy spot us before the party begins."
"Do not get greedy. If we allow ourselves to become decisively engaged we will die. We are to fire a few rounds at the Tommies, brew up a couple of their forward tanks, and then break contact after we see them stopping to deploy." The Mk III commander nodded that he understood.
"One more thing." Altschul halted the Mk III's commander to make a particular point of this order. "We had no choice but to leave the Italian infantry to the Tommies at El Alamein. We could not carry them all and a rear guard was needed to allow the mobile forces to break contact. Regardless of what has happened to the Italians, I will not make that same sacrifice today of our Kameraden."
"When we pull out we take the 90th's grenadiers onboard and they leave with us. If that's not possible we will stay with them to the end. Is that clear?" The other tank commander looked up at him. Altschul glared at him until the point was made.
The Mk III's commander didn't like it but knew that if he tried to abandon the German infantry they were being sent to support Altschul's Mk IV would destroy him in his tracks. Again, the Mk III's commander nodded in silent agreement and the two commanders returned to their tanks and mounted up.
The two panzers moved out together across the still wet desert staying to the low ground as much as possible to avoid detection. Standing in his open hatch and rocking with the motion of the tank, Altschul thought about the Allies' radio broadcast just after midnight. The BBC was listened to by the Germans as much as it was by the British. The music was good, and the news, while sometimes disheartening, was usually painfully accurate.
As in its most recent broadcast. American, British and Free French ground forces were reported landing in Morocco and Algiers to seize North Africa. If the Allies bothered to put a large enough force ashore they weren't going to be happy with sitting on their asses where they had landed. They would move east to threaten the rear of the entire Panzerarmee Afrika as its depleted formations fell back to defensive positions along the Libyan and Tunisia frontier
The only thing in North Africa to prevent this from happening were the Vichy French. Sheisse.
Spotting the 90th's positions to his front, Altschul realized that he needed to put aside for another day thoughts of the new Allied landings. He had to concentrate on the job at hand to survive this one.
The grenadiers waved from their protective holes dug in just behind the crest of a low rise as his panzer and the Mk III spread out into turret down hide positions just behind the outpost. There, beginning to warm up a bit in the sun, his refocused his thoughts on their current tactical situation instead of an Allied threat far away to their rear.
One of the grenadiers slid back out of his position to alert the panzer crews that British tanks had been sighted. They were moving through a spot of low ground that Altschul couldn't see from his turret so he dismounted from the tank with his binoculars and crawled forward with the grenadier to have a look.
There they were.. a platoon of three Sherman tanks in a wedge formation almost a kilometer away moving forward cautiously towards a tangled junction of desert trails.
Ach so. Their wheeled armored cars had not been able to move up in this terrain to scout for them so the British had been forced to make do with sending tanks forward for reconnaissance. Tanks on the move in a reconnaissance role weren't nearly as survivable as the smaller and more agile recon vehicles were, so where was.. there! Their tan colored camouflage made them difficult to spot, but there were more tanks visible farther back sitting in a support by fire position.
Time to bloody Tommy's nose! Altschul told the grenadier "Let your Feldwebel know you men have no business in this fight. It's only tanks to our front without infantry support, so you need to displace now. Stay low, head back to the rear as fast as you can move, and we'll pick you up along the way when we make our break. Now get moving and don't look back. Macht Schnell!"
The two squads of German infantry quickly got the word, gathered up their weapons, and began their move to rejoin the retreating units. As Altschul was remounting the Mk IV, the infantry Feldwebel's hand came up in a casual salute of respect as he trotted past the tank. The tank commander returned it and slid boots first into his hatch while reaching to re-connect his headset and microphone. His crew all thought "Here we go."
"Gunner, three tanks front 900 meters, right Sherman first, two rounds armor piercing." His fire command rang out over the panzer's intercom and his crew went into action. Seeing and hearing the crew's actions going on below him in the turret and hull, he keyed his radio throat mic and looked over at the Mk III.
"Achtung. Three Shermans, frontal, 900 meters. Hull down on order. Two rounds armor piercing, then pull back to hide position and observe for effect. Acknowledge. Over."
With a frontal fire command, the two panzer crews would each engage the tank on the side of the British formation that matched their own position relative to one another. After their primary target was destroyed, or was no longer visible, they would switch to the center target.
The Mk III's commander responded with "Jawohl.", looked down into his turret hatch, and keyed the intercom to begin a fire command to his crew that would prepare them to engage the Sherman on the left of the British formation.
"Loaded!" the loader's voice rang out over the metallic slap of the gun breech closing. "Crew report!" Altschul ordered. All of his crewmen immediately responded in turn over the intercom to confirm that they were ready, and Altschul looked over at his wingman. The Mk III commander nodded at him. The Mk IV commander then took a breath, keyed the radio mic, and said "Drivers forward. Gunners take over."
This command, audible by the crews of both of the panzers, set the pair of combat vehicles into motion at the same time. The commanders lowered themselves in their open hatches until their eyes were just able to peer over the edge of the armor. The drivers drove their tanks forward and up into firing positions behind the crest of the low rise the infantry had been occupying while the gunners were observing through their telescopic sights.
As soon as the gunners saw through the sight that their main gun muzzle was clear to fire without the round striking the ground to their front, they would order the drivers to halt. The panzers would then be in position to shoot while still partially protected behind as much of the remaining cover of the ridgeline as possible. The Mk IV gunner, his eye pressed to the sight, called out "Driver halt! Right Sherman identified!"
Helmut stopped the tank, immediately throttled down the engine, shifted into reverse gear, and held the tank in place with the brake. Altschul, ducking down into the turret to avoid debris that would be kicked up from the muzzle blast so close to the ground in front of him, closed his eyes and yelled "FIRE!"
With his gun sight reticle's 900 meter aiming point laid on the right Sherman tank's center of mass the gunner fired the main gun… vaWHOOOOM! Debris from the muzzle blast was still flying as Altschul held his breath and immediately stood up with the binoculars pressed to his eyes to observe the impact of their shot.
The gun breech recoiled to the rear limit of its carriage with a motion that was as quick as that of a striking viper. A hot brass shell casing spit out by the extractor clanged onto the turret floor emitting smoky fumes from its open end. In a smooth motion, the gun returned to battery with the breech block locked into its open position.. a gleaming metal maw hungry to be fed the next round.
The loader, hand coiled into a fist so he wouldn't lose his fingers in the breech mechanism, slammed home another 7.5cm AP round and once again sang out "Loaded!" Staying just out of the recoil path of the gun breech to avoid being ripped apart if he was behind it when the gun fired, he snatched up the empty shell casing and tossed it out the open hatch in the side of the turret. This prevented the casing from rolling around in the floor of the turret until it was caught in the turret ring and jammed the traversing mechanism.
Altschul, peering through the binoculars while the loader was performing his job so flawlessly, could not see the right hand Sherman through a large cloud of debris so he ordered "Lost! Center Sherman!" The gunner spun the turret slightly to the left and rapidly laid his sight on the center target. "Identified!" The Mk III's left side Sherman was visible and burning like a torch.
"Fire!" Altschul again ducked and squinted his eyes. Another round streaked downrange, its tracer just visible through the gunner's sights as the debris kicked up once again. As soon as the round left the muzzle Altschul shouted "CEASE FIRE DRIVER REVERSE!!"
Helmut was in the driver's position low in the hull and forward of the turret crew. The panzer's main gun tube was directly over his head and visible through the hatch he preferred to keep locked in the open position even while in combat. His eyes and mouth were clenched shut with his teeth clamped together so the shockwave of the two blasts from the big gun's muzzle just past the front slope of the tank wouldn't cause him to bite his tongue.
The veteran driver throttled up immediately as the second round was fired. As soon as he heard his panzer commander begin the command that would break off the action he immediately let off the brake and the Mk IV, already in reverse gear, leapt to the rear rolling downhill and backwards into its hide position where the driver halted it safe from direct fire.
The entire engagement had taken no more than 10-15 seconds but it was over not a split second too soon. Three 75mm armor piercing rounds from the supporting line of Shermans howled in and obliterated what had been the German tank's firing position.
British tank crews, scanning ahead of their forward tank troop, had spotted the Mk IV's muzzle blast as soon as it fired its first shot and had engaged. These Shermans were at a greater distance than the 900 meters the lead tanks were at but still within effective range. It took just a few seconds longer for their rounds to arrive as the crews in overwatch acquired the target, aimed, and fired their volley at the Germans.
For the Mk IV and its crew, those few seconds were an entire lifetime.
The Tommies from the veteran British 7th Armoured Division, the "Desert Rats" as they liked to call themselves, were damn good tankers. Too damn good. If the Mk IV hadn't bolted rearward into cover immediately after firing the second round, its turret would have been ripped completely off its hull and the entire crew incinerated in the fiery blast of their ammunition and fuel exploding.
Dirt and rocks that had been blasted skyward by the Sherman's shells fell back to earth and pelted Helmut through his open hatch. Eyes still clenched shut, his lips were now pulled back to bare his teeth fiercely like those of a wolf watching its cubs feast on their kill. He hadn't even seen the enemy tanks as the vision slit in the front armor plating was too low for him to see past the rocky berm to his front but somehow he knew the panzers had drawn blood.
"Crew report!" Again, all of Altschul's crew sounded off to let him know they were okay. Shaking a bit with the adrenalin rush that always hit him immediately after a fight, the veteran panzer commander raised himself up higher in his hatch and brought the binoculars to his eyes to observe to his front as the debris and dust finally settled.
"Targets destroyed. Load armor piercing." All three of the Shermans at the trail junction were burning. One of the tanks had its turret blown off and it was lying inverted in the dirt beside the flaming hull. That tank, the right hand Sherman, had been brewed up by the Mk IV's first round punching through the armor to ignite its 75mm main gun ammunition stored in the turret in a spectacular secondary explosion.
No wonder Altschul hadn't been able to observe their first target immediately after the shot. It was exploding.
The breech block slapped shut on another round and the loader spoke the single word of his combat vocabulary for a third time. "Loaded!" The main gun was ready to fire again if the panzer commander willed it so.
The Mk III had killed the Sherman on the left with its first shot, but was still sitting up in its firing position off to the left of the Mk IV and was burning fiercely. Fuel and ammunition were cooking off causing thick flames and greasy black smoke to shoot upward from the panzer's open hatches and engine deck vents. There could be no survivors among the crewmen in that tank.
Watching it burn, Altschul recalled that in the chaos of the brief but deadly fight he'd clearly heard the sharp crack of three main gun rounds fired from the panzer. His own gunner, as well as the Mk III's, had missed the center Sherman as they rushed to get their second shots off. The Mk III commander had disobeyed orders and stayed up in his fighting position to fire a third time and make the kill.
He got the center Sherman alright, but the other British tanks made him and his crew pay for that third shot with their lives. Now he, his crew and, more importantly his panzer were Alles Kaputt.
If the Mk III had followed orders to fire only two rounds and then duck as the Mk IV had, there would have been two differences in the outcome of the battle. One of those differences is the center Sherman would have broken contact to run back to the other tanks as they fired smoke rounds to cover his retreat.
The Allies had plenty of Shermans left sitting out there, and evidently more were on the way from Morocco and Algeria. Suicidal heroics to destroy one more of them had not changed this fact at all.
A much more important difference would have been there would still be two panzers available to re-fight this same battle again tomorrow morning in another battle position somewhere to the west instead of only the one that had survived.
The panzer that had survived was The School House, and the lessons would continue.
Earlier in the desert war, British tankers making contact would often charge straight in heroically to a glorious death but those days, and those tank crews, were long gone. Now their nature after a battle was to be cautious and make sure their enemy would be overwhelmed with firepower before attempting to pursue.
This morning's fight would fulfill the regimental commander's order of keeping Tommy occupied for a while even if it partially violated the order for his panzers to stay alive.
"Gunner, safe the gun. Helmut, get us the hell out of here and head back the way we came in. Stay low and move fast!"
"Jawohl, Herr Unterfeldwebel." Helmut could be very precise with military protocol whenever new crew members were assigned. It was merely his own way of helping to train them. That, and demonstrating to them exactly how a driver who knew what the hell he was doing would keep a crew alive in a tank battle.
The Mk IV locked one track as it backed to turn around sharply and then it headed for safety. Altschul, reaching for a canteen of water strapped to the turret interior bulkhead next to him, reminded his hull crewmen to "Keep an eye out for those grenadiers we are to pick up. It will be crowded, but all will fit somewhere on top for the ride back."
He ordered his bow gun radio operator to transmit a short report of the battle to headquarters and to let them know a friendly unit would be approaching the rally point from the southeast. Being shot up by their own anti-tank units as they headed for home would not be a pleasant experience. It had happened before, but it would not happen again today.
As the lone panzer moved out to the northwest, the commander had his gunner rotate the turret and main gun into position over their back deck and oriented on their former battle position. This would allow the crew to be able to cover their own retreat if Tommy did decide to move his tanks up faster than was expected. It wasn't likely it would be needed this time, but old habits.. good habits.. are worth keeping. As was shown so clearly today, they paid off in blood.
From his turret hatch Altschul could see British artillery starting to fall on what had been their battle position. It was simple for the spotters to adjust their fire onto the target. Black smoke from the burning Mk III rose high into the sky to give them an easy reference point.
Oh yes.. with his own barrage now falling on the enemy position, Tommy was going to settle in, brew a nice cup of tea, and be there for a while. He would be in no hurry to advance until he knew it was safe to do so.
While he waited, the dead German and British crews and their burning tanks would be there to keep him company.
