Operation Mercury Page 15
Whatever the reason for this extraordinary reply, Andrew felt that all he could now do was to mount a local counter-attack with whatever he had in hand. North of the beleaguered Hill 107 the Colonel had stationed his pair of Matildas which were now to be thrown into the attack in an attempt to drive off the Germans on the periphery of the airstrip and retake the bridge over the Tavronitis. One of the strategic failings surrounding the Battle for Crete, as some commentators have pointed out, was the dispersal of the available armour. Using tanks in penny packets to support local infantry attacks had been a weakness in the Battle for France – it remained so here on Crete.
The actual usefulness of heavy tanks such as the Matilda for operations in such harsh and hostile terrain was also subsequently scrutinised. The After Battle Report concluded that the light tanks were very effective in dealing with enemy machine guns and nests of snipers.
Safe from small-arms fire they could hose the ground with their own machine guns then charge home as light cavalry, crushing or overrunning the foe; any survivors could be dealt with on a hand to hand basis. If these tactics sound exceedingly brutal, they were certainly effective. Whether the heavier infantry tanks could perform as well in this close support role was far less certain.
Andrew dispatched Peter Butler, formerly of C Company, as a runner in mid-afternoon, to establish contact with Captain Johnston. On his way, hastened by threatening bursts from MG 34s, he blundered into a well-concealed tank. The commander advised him that he was still awaiting orders before engaging. Butler spent over an hour crouched with his former comrades in their exposed positions before being sent back with a situation report. Returning around five, he was in time to witness the counter-attack, spearheaded by the Matildas.
The line of attack had been worked out between Johnston and the tank crews the day before and, as the Captain records:
The tanks left their concealed position at 5.15 and moved west past company headquarters along the road towards the river in single file about thirty yards apart ... the second tank turned about before reaching the bridge and came back past company headquarters on the Maleme road.21
This inspiring beginning proved anti-climactic for, as Butler records, the second tank soon came lumbering back. Apparently the ammunition for the machine gun was of the wrong calibre and the traverse mechanism for the turret was jammed. The first of the tanks, however, managed to descend into the dry river bed from the road and move forward under the span of the iron bridge. The ground was alive with Germans who were badly rattled by its appearance.
Student later admitted that his men, already dazed by their heavy losses, were reduced to something akin to panic by the arrival of British armour, which was impervious to small-arms fire. Gericke, amongst those crouched in the rocks, confessed that this new development caused ripples of fear amongst his tired men. However, the threat proved more apparent than real. The broken ground afforded plenty of cover and the tank was not, in fact, able to inflict many casualties.
Matters quickly degenerated for the British. This tank soon stalled and, with its turret also jammed, the crew baled out and were captured. The lead platoon from C Company, following in the wake of the metal monster, was caught in a most unfavourable position, assailed from all sides. The survivors were forced into an ignominious and costly retreat, leaving a scattering of dead and wounded. Of the attacking sections only three men came back unwounded.22 A gallant gunner who had, with his comrades, volunteered to fight as a foot soldier when their gun had been knocked out earlier, was amongst those who failed to return. The whole sorry business was over in half an hour and with nothing to show for the loss.
It would be easy to find fault with Andrew for launching a small, local counter-attack which could only bring very limited resources to bear against an enemy now well dug in and over very difficult ground. This would, however, be unfair. The Colonel was acutely aware of how exposed his forward companies were and of the need to relieve them from the relentless pressure now building up from west of the Tavronitis. For Andrew the failure to establish defences in this vulnerable sector was now bearing bitter fruit. His oft repeated pleas for additional support had gone unheard; it is difficult to see what other choices were available to him.
With his attack stalled and fearing the two forward companies had been overrun, Andrew spoke again to Hargest and warned he might have to withdraw from Hill 107. The Brigadier’s reply was ‘If you must, you must’.23 In fact both Johnson and Campbell were hanging on. A and B companies had barely engaged, Andrew nonetheless proposed to fall back to B Company Ridge, a spur that lay below Hill 107 and was, in fact, very much in its shadow.
Despite the desperate fighting in Andrew’s sector and the clear implications of abandoning Hill 107, Hargest does not seem to have felt the need to inspect his forward battalion, preferring to remain at Brigade HQ. The question therefore arises as to whether he felt that he had to conserve his strength to repel a second, seaborne attack on his sector. If so, and it may well be the case, then ULTRA had, in fact, worked for the Germans rather than the Allies by causing them to ‘look the wrong way’!
Having thought again, however, Hargest decided to detach two companies – one from 23rd Battalion and a company of Maoris from the 28th, despite the fact they were a good eight miles distant. Andrew, being apprised of this then, for whatever reason, continued with his phased withdrawal from the hilltop and from the eastern perimeter of the airfield. By 9.00 p.m. the relief company from the 23rd was to hand and Andrew sent them off toward the rise of Hill 107 from which his own men had just withdrawn.
The Maoris were held up, became lost and ended up in a satisfying but pointless firefight with a group of parachutists barricaded in houses by the coast road. The obstacle was cleared and prisoners taken but Andrew, physically and emotionally exhausted, had decided to withdraw his whole force toward 21st and 23rd Battalions, abandoning Hill 107 again and take position on B Company ridge. With this was lost the infinitely greater prize of the airfield itself and the situation lurched from deadlock toward disaster.
Suffering from heavy casualties and having been profligate with their ammunition, the Germans were scarcely placed to renew the attack. C and D companies, despite losses, were by no means beaten; ‘still full of fight’ though their ammunition was lower than their spirit.24 Campbell, who was expecting his position to be utilised as a jumping off for a fresh counter-attack, at first refused to believe that he had been abandoned. Only when he and his CSM confirmed, from personal reconnaissance, that Battalion HQ was an empty shell, did the full realisation sink in.25
The order to split into three detachments and filter southward through the tangle of hills must have been a galling one, to give up a position so bravely held and break off from a fight that seemed to be winnable. Johnson, even more exposed on the seaward side of the aerodrome, hung on till first light then, unable to establish contact with anyone from battalion, led his men back toward the 21st. The exhausted Germans simply let them go but it was a tragic end to so determined a stand.
An opportunity, not one to be repeated, had now been lost and the debate over who was to blame has raged ever since. Freyberg, as C.-in-C., had always regarded Maleme as the prime Axis target. Captured orders have since confirmed this, so the degree of laissez-faire which obtained at Brigade and Divisional HQ seems hard to comprehend. One explanation, which has been offered, is that Hargest was in the habit of delegating visits to the forward positions to his immediate subordinates. There is, of course, in theory, nothing wrong with this. The brigadier should, in a conventional battle, remain so placed that he can respond to events across the board.
This, however, was not a normal battle. It was not a conflict of attrition or even of mass manoeuvre – it was a fight for a single key objective, which would unlock not just the sector but the entire Allied position. It has been suggested that:
Had Brigadier Hargest gone to his forward Battalions himself instead of sending his Brigade Major (Captain Dawson)
there might have been a different story to tell. Surely he would have vetoed the withdrawal of 22nd Battalion from the airfield. Surely he would have launched a counter-attack, and his presence would have inspired the troops at a time when inspiration was needed.26
1. British, Australian and New Zealand troops disembark at Suda Bay, Crete.
(Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand. Photo DA-01611)
2. Alpine troops boarding Greek vessels.
(Courtesy of the Naval Museum, Chania)
3. General Thomas Blamey, in command of Australian forces in the Middle East.
(Courtesy of the Naval Museum, Chania)
4. Airborne parachutists leaving planes to land on the island of Crete, below.
(Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand. Photo DA-08215)
5. Dead German paratrooper enshrouded in his parachute.
(Courtesy of the Naval Museum, Chania)
6. German paratroops in a street in Canea, as prisoners of war, captured by 2 NZEF in Crete.
(Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand. Photo DA-01153)
7. The grim task of burying German dead.
(Courtesy of the Naval Museum, Chania)
8. A German troop carrier on fire over Crete during the Second World War.
(Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand. Photo DA-07491)
9. Soldiers marching to transit camp in Crete. Officers at head of column are Major R.L.C. Grant (left) and Captain D.W. Burns, Divisional Signals.
(Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand. Photo DA-10468)
10. German parachutes near Galatos hung up in olive trees. Shows soldiers Cyril Ericson (holding map case) and Ernie Avon.
(Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand. Photo DA-00470)
11. New Zealand soldiers keeping under cover in a cave while awaiting evacuation from Crete.
(Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand. Photo DA-10636)
12. The iron bridge over the dried up bed of the Tavronitis. Failure to dispose Allied troops west of the Tavronitis to meet the airborne threat prior to 20 May was a significant factor in permitting Student’s badly mauled paratroops to gain an unchallenged foothold west of the dried up river bed.
(Author)
13. Looking back (northwards) up the Imbros Pass, the modern road leads down to the south coast in a dizzying sequence of tight hairpins but in 1941 the road was unfinished and the retreating troops were faced with a rough scramble down the forbidding reaches of the gorge itself.
(Author)
14. Memorial Cross at the German war cemetery Maleme.
(Author)
15. The war memorial, Galatas.
(Author)
Chapter 6
The AA Waltz – Battle at Sea
Before the Greek invasion Admiral Cunningham made his daring and successful sweeps through the Mediterranean in complete disregard of the Italian Air Force. When Italian fliers did attack, the fleet put up an AA barrage [and] the Italians took avoiding action … But over Crete Waters, German pilots came out of the sun in steep power dives, utterly disregarded AA fire [and] released their bombs over the target … dive bombing was accompanied by high level bombing and torpedo attacks. Often the bombs struck before the bomber was seen. The fleet AA could only fire barrages into the sun [and] hope fir hits … In some cases of major damage or sinking the air attack had been of such intensity and duration … that the vessels were out of ammunition long before the bombing ceased.1
I had the vessel [in my bombsight] … From bows to stern she filled the circle, and then with decreasing distance she seemed to grow fast … this was a cruiser and now I saw two more of them in line ahead. This was something I had never seen before … My cruiser … shot at me with every gun barrel and her speed was so fast that she forced me to flatten my dive … I pushed the button immediately turning to starboard and the bombs dropped. I was now within easy reach of the light guns and the tracers … were everywhere … I would have given a fortune for more speed to get out of the range of those gunners. All of a sudden there were cascades of water coming up my way. They shot at me with heavy artillery planting water trees right in my course … I began to dance … ‘The AA Waltz’, turn and turn upwards and downwards … It was not fun, however. I felt that there were professionals firing at me … This was my first encounter with British cruisers, I said and I am still alive, still flying … home to Eleusis.
The bombs had hit the wake.2
Some two centuries ago Admiral Lord Nelson had defeated the combined fleets of France and Spain off Cape Trafalgar, securing Britain from invasion and establishing the fact of British naval hegemony. ‘Britannia Rules the Waves’ was not mere jingoism, it was a factual statement and no maritime power came close to challenging the global supremacy of the Royal Navy until the Naval Arms Race with the German High Seas Fleet in the years prior to the outbreak of the First World War. Though the single clash between the opposing dreadnoughts at Jutland in 1916 was inconclusive, the High Seas fleet retired to harbour and made no significant sorties.
The development of submarine warfare and the increasing importance of air power had changed the face of war at sea. The loss of the French fleet after 1940 and the entry of the Italians, with their powerful navy, into the war threatened the whole British position in the Mediterranean. Beaten at Taranto and off Cape Matapan, the menace from the Italians largely evaporated but that posed by the Luftwaffe did not.
If the attempt to seize Crete by aerial envelopment represented a significant tactical innovation then the concurrent battle at sea would see a major air force take on a dominant battle fleet in a savage and sustained fight, the ships utterly unprotected from the air other than by the weight of their own AA barrage. The experience would, for the British Navy, be both chastening and costly.
By May 1941 Admiral Cunningham’s ships carried an onerous burden, or series of burdens, shadowing the more numerous Italians, shielding Malta, blockading Libya, supplying the outlying bastion of Tobruk and, most recently, shipping the army to and rescuing it from Greece. All at a time when the RAF was least able to provide supporting air cover. Before the Battle for Crete began Cunningham was noting that his ships and crews were worn out, the vessels needed servicing and refitting and the men needed rest from the constant strain of action. Ammunition, particularly for the AA guns, was running at dangerously low levels.
During the course of the forced evacuation of the army from the small ports and beaches of the Peloponnese, the strain had increased significantly and twenty-two ships had been lost. None of these went down in ship-to-ship engagements; all were sunk by marauding German bombers and dive bombers and it was clear that the main danger came from the skies. The Italian ships, rarely sighted, now declined to engage and the Axis had no fleet other than theirs available, but the Luftwaffe more than compensated for the deficiency.
The cardinal lesson learnt from the Greek fiasco was that naval operations could now only proceed safely under cover of darkness; to be exposed at sea in daylight hours was to court disaster. Cunningham, understandably, had been wary of his ships’ ability to protect Crete. One of the bitter lessons learnt, especially after the loss of the two destroyers Wryneck and Diamond off Nauplion, was that single ships or pairs were particularly vulnerable. Any foray needed to be squadron sized so the combined AA barrage could create a storm or ‘box’ of shot, forming an anti-aircraft umbrella.
As a seaborne descent on Crete seemed likely, repelling any such armada was Cunningham’s prime strategic role. Consequently he deployed his ships in three battle squadrons. Vice Admiral Pridham-Whippel and Rear Admiral Rawlings were given charge of the main battle fleet, itself divided into forces A and A1 – their allotted task was to cruise the western approaches to intercept any attempt by the Italian Navy to cover a landing. This powerful force included several capital ships: Queen Elizabeth, Barham, Warspite, Valiant, two cruisers and sixteen destroyers.
The 20 May saw no major action at sea but on the 21st, as the Mediterranean dawn poured light over the ‘wine dark sea’, King’s squadron had a brush with the Luftwaffe which resulted in the loss of Juno.3 As the day wore on the evidence of an attempted landing, gleaned from intelligence sources, mounted. Admiralty intelligence on Crete, managed by Captain J.A.V. Morse, was particularly efficient, relying on an established espionage network supported by aerial reconnaissance (sea planes, the Short Sunderlands, flying from Egypt). By midday Cunningham knew what was afoot and issued orders to King and Glennie to continue their coastal sweeps that night.