Authors: John Schettler
Colonel Klaus von dem Borne listened, his eyes on his report from the quartermaster. “It won’t be a question of supplies this time,” he said. “We still have plenty of fuel for our tanks and trucks.”
“Yes? Well it’s a pity we no longer have the tanks to use it.”
“It has been worse. That attack came in darkness. That is why you did not get your
Stuka
support. Once dawn came the planes were up, but by then the enemy had already achieved a breakthrough—and those rockets! They took a terrible toll on the air squadrons. We lost 18 planes before noon. As for the navy, the
Hindenburg
has been recalled to Gibraltar. We only just got the news. By now they will be in the Atlantic.”
Rommel shook his head. “They are pulling out, Borne. The navy took a beating in that last big engagement, and they want nothing more to do with the Royal Navy here. We finally take Malta, and now control both the western and central Mediterranean, but we do not use this advantage to really move the forces here that will make a difference. One more division… If they had sent me the 1st Mountain Division as promised, then I would not have had to commit 5th Light to the action at Tobruk. Goering’s troops fought hard. In another six hours we would have taken that harbor. If I had Kübler’s troops assaulting behind them, then 5th Light would have been available in reserve when this enemy counterattack started. For that matter, 10th Panzer is just sitting in France doing nothing, and that division could have made all the difference here.”
“It’s the Russian operation, sir. Everything is being nailed down in readiness for Barbarossa. We were lucky to get the supplies and troops assigned in these last three months, particularly Grossdeutschland.”
“Well as it was, I had no reserve,” Rommel complained. “Once they broke through we had no recourse. It was either withdraw or be cut off.”
“Even 5th Light may not have been enough…” Von Borne was a realist. He had collected the reports from the officers of 15th Panzers, and the flak units that faced the enemy counterattack. “It was those god awful heavy tanks again, same as before. That defense was hastily mounted. We did not expect them to hit us in the center. Down south Hörnlein stood his ground as ordered, but the center was weak, and I think that, even if you had 5th Light in hand to throw in, it would have been much the same.”
“This isn’t over,” said Rommel, stubbornly resisting the notion of defeat again. “We have withdrawn to better defensive positions here, that is all. We will get more tanks up from Tripoli and then consider what to do. Thank god the enemy doesn’t have the sense to get after us now. How do we stop these tanks!” The frustration in Rommel’s voice was apparent.
“One was damaged by our artillery fire.”
“One?”
“That night attack was difficult to cope with. The artillery fires were not as heavy as we planned, but yes, we stopped one, and after dawn the
Stukas
got it.”
“So they can be killed, if we get the air support. For now, we must assume a defensive posture again.”
“We’re safe for the moment,” said von Borne. “The British have not pursued us west. They seem content to consolidate around Tobruk, and that is another mystery. They used this new armor in Syria to stop 9th Panzer Division, then just pulled it off the line. And they have done the very same thing here. You would think they would exploit these breakthroughs, but each time the hammer falls they set it aside.”
“They don’t really have the strength to go on the offensive yet,” said Rommel. “Their infantry divisions can’t push us—only this new armored force. They aborted their offensive in Syria against 9th Panzer Division to send those tanks back here. So this tells me that they do not have them in any great numbers, possibly only this one brigade sized unit from what we’ve been able to piece together. They counterattack to hold the line, and thus far that has been enough, yes? Operations have ground to a halt in Syria, and now we have been stopped again here. This big strategy of squeezing the British in a pincer operation was doomed to fail from the very first. I needed Kübler’s troops here, and another good panzer division. And forces committed to Syria were also inadequate.”
“I’m afraid there will be no serious reinforcement here now for some time,” said von Borne. “Everything is going to Russia. I have even heard they are going to recall Steiner’s troops from Syria. In fact, I would not be surprised to find that Grossdeutschland is taken from us soon. You must prepare yourself for the worst.”
Rommel was pouring over those terrible loss reports von Borne had handed him, his mind searching the days ahead as he might peer out into this forsaken desert, seeing nothing there but endless, lifeless stretches of barren land. It was then that a staffer came in with the Führer’s congratulations on his capture of Tobruk. The man saluted as he handed off the note, his eyes bearing the weight of what had just happened to the Afrika Korps. Rommel gave him a wan look, returning his salute.
When Borne had left, and he was again alone, he quietly read the message, a grim smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Then he slowly crumbled it in his clenched fist.
Part IX
Big Red
“And having once chosen, never seek to return to the crossroads of that decision, for even if one chooses wrongly, the choice cannot be unmade.”
― Jacqueline Carey
Chapter 25
Karpov
watched as the
Orenburg
climbed for the safety of the advancing storm, risking the tempestuous wind there rather than face battle after having been caught by surprise.
The
Orenburg
, he thought. Volkov’s flagship! That would not have been committed here unless this was a major operation, just as Rudkin had it in that book. He thinks he is going to destroy my entire fleet, but so far my little surprise here has worked as I hoped. I was meant to be here, he thought. The line of my fate is simply too strong for time to disregard me, nor will I be marooned in the past as we were just now, even if that left me in a very interesting position to destroy Volkov in 1909. No, this is the way it should be, ship to ship, face to face, man to man, only it looks as though Volkov wants no part of this fight, if he’s aboard that ship. I have chosen, and there is no going back now.
“Radio room says there are three enemy airships at low elevation north of Ilanskiy,” said Tyrenkov, rushing in with the latest report.
“Low elevation? That can only mean they are landing troops. Any word as to what is happening on the ground?”
“There was some scattered fighting east of Kansk, sir. It looks like some of Volkov’s troops landed there, but they have withdrawn.”
“For Ilanskiy,” said Karpov quickly. “He thought he was going to catch us all napping here, and he must have brought troops on every airship, but it still won’t be enough. We have the entire 11th Siberian Division there. Kolchak wanted to know why it wasn’t sent to the Ob river line? Now he knows. Speaking of Kolchak, what about
Irkutsk
and
Novosibirsk?”
Karpov was hoping his last two airships might be heading west.
“Last report still had both airships over Lake Baikal. Kolchak is wary of giving up his only heavy air support on the Japanese frontier.”
“Damn the Japanese, they haven’t even entered the war yet! The fight is here. Signal Kolchak again. Tell him
I
am here now, and I need those damn ships! What about
Talmenka?”
That was his last ship, another T-Class heavy cruiser like the stricken
Tomsk
.
“At least six hours away, sir. She was the only ship patrolling the Ob River line, and is re-provisioning at Chemororsk.”
“Tell them to get here as soon as possible, and any troops at Kansk as well.”
“Nothing there but light garrison troops and three squadrons of Tartar Cavalry.”
“Send the cavalry after those troops Volkov landed east of that city. If they cannot make contact, then they are to follow the main rail line and come to Ilanskiy.”
Karpov was pacing, his footfalls hard on the metal plated deck of the main gondola. He had this ship designed with a wide central walkway there just so he could do this, an old habit when things got hot on the bridge of any ship he commanded, and his field glasses hung from a clip on a nearby bulkhead beam, just as they did aboard
Kirov
.
So I can’t count on help from Kolchak, he thought. I’ll only have
Abakan
and
Angara
, already hovering over Ilanskiy, and if Volkov can pull his surviving ships together we could still be in for a tough fight. No matter, that was what I was sent here for. Yes?
“Signal Big Red,” he said confidently. “Tell Captain Alenin that Admiral Karpov sends his regards. Well done! Have him forward a report on his ship as soon as they can control their fires. Now let us steer directly to the fight at Ilanskiy! All ahead full!”
“All engines ahead full sir,” said Bogrov.
It was then that a runner handed Tyrenkov the report he had been waiting for, and he read it with some misgivings. “Sir,” he began. “We may not have the full 11th Siberian Division after all.”
Karpov spun on his heels, a flash of anger in his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve just received word from Colonel Ivanov on the ground. He tells me that two rifle regiments were sent west by rail three days ago when the enemy opened that offensive on the Ob River line. He has only his regiment at Ilanskiy, and the Motor Rifle battalion was recalled to Irkutsk yesterday.”
“On who’s order?”
“Kolchak, sir. He was the only one who could have cut those orders.”
“Damn that man! I gave specific orders that the 11th was to stand here at Ilanskiy.”
“It seems the confusion caused by our recent absence resulted in some alarm here sir. When that big offensive started, Kolchak tried to assume command from Irkutsk.”
“That
idiot!”
Karpov did not mince words, not even in front of Bogrov and the other men on the bridge. “Doesn’t he realize what’s happening here? Volkov started that offensive three days ago to try and compel us to do exactly what Kolchak ordered—weaken the garrison at Ilanskiy. He knows damn well that his troops out west will never break through and get 700 kilometers east to have anything to do with this battle. Kolchak is a fool! He played right into Volkov’s hands. I should have dealt with him long ago—before I left for that conference with the Soviets.”
He steamed with the news, his eyes searching this way and that, driven by the fever of his mind. “Very well,” he said at last. “Then we get our troops on the ground as soon as possible. Were there any men aboard our other airships?”
“No sir, they were all rigged for air operations.”
“Then get your men into their parachutes on the double.”
“Sir… Your personal guard?”
“That’s at least one more heavy company we can get into the defense,” said Karpov. “But we must move quickly. We’ll maneuver the ship south of the town and you’ll have safe ground for an air drop. But I can’t sacrifice any elevation. The men will have to deploy by parachute. You will have to lead them, Tyrenkov.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Very good. First contact that Motor Rifle Battalion and get it turned around and headed back here immediately. Then get your men to Ilanskiy. Get to that railway inn, Tyrenkov. You know what’s at stake.”
I certainly do, thought Tyrenkov. Yes, I do indeed. He saluted crisply, turning to leave.
* * *
The
Orenburg
emerged from the edge of a darkening cloud, and hovered in the sky, glowering at the two distant airships over the town. Far below, Kymchek could see the bright flashes of heavy weapons fire, and the smoke and fire of battle west of the town. The troops landed by the Southern Division, four heavy companies, had already arrived. Three more had been safely put on the ground by the 1st Division, but of the four ships in the Caspian Division, only
Anapa
and
Armavir
had safely landed their troops, just east of Kansk.
That’s just nine heavy companies, he thought. Volkov calls them battalions, but they’ll be matched by a full regiment of the 11th Siberian Division. Lucky for us that the enemy took the bait and moved most of this division to the Ob River line three days ago. We’ll have no more than a Brigade sized force here, and it will still be some time forming up. As for the air battle, we’ll need
Pavlodar
and
Talgar
back as soon as possible. It was foolish to detach those ships so early in the action. Then again, we thought we outnumbered the enemy twelve to five at that time, and so I can see why Volkov made that decision. It does put them in position to get back here with at least two more companies, but we may need more than that if Karpov gets any help from the East.
Down on the ground, the battle Kymchek was musing on was slowly beginning. The Tartar cavalry at Kansk had the word to move east along the main rail line, and to look for enemy troops along the way. Two rifle companies from
Armavir
and
Anapa
had landed there safely, lucky to be alive after the thermobaric bomb that had immolated
Salsk
with all hands aboard, and the hot action that had blasted
Sochi
from the sky. This force was hastening east along the rail line, a small platoon of infantry on light motorcycles standing as a rearguard.
A battalion of Tartar cavalry came upon them, the report of a machinegun firing from a concealed position north of the rail, and gunning down three horsemen. Hailing from the Upper Volga region and the Ural Mountains, these were big, hardy men, with swarthy beards, broad shoulders and dark eyes. Most had rifles, but in close combat they would seldom dismount to fight on foot, preferring the speed and mobility of fighting from horseback. Their mounts enabled them to move swiftly through the wooded terrain of the taiga, going places where no motorized formation could follow, and easily eluding most infantry forces that might try. And when they charged, their bright curved sabers were enough to unnerve all but the most stalwart of infantry.