Chapter 503: Encounter Battle in the Great Desert

A German armored reconnaissance car sped through the desert. A German panzer crewman, with a scarf wrapped around his neck, had the upper half of his body exposed, leaning against the thick communication antenna and watching every movement around him.

“How could there possibly be enemy troops in a godforsaken place like this? Making us go out this far is just crazy,” the radio operator complained through the headset about their hours of fruitless reconnaissance.

Rommel was a general who paid great attention to reconnaissance. He liked to frequently send out his recon units to check every dark corner next to his own forces. This allowed him to have a complete grasp of the environment around his troops and provided a guarantee for him to issue correct operational orders.

The crevices of this armored reconnaissance car were filled with yellow sand, and the entire vehicle had been painted the color of the desert. From the mottled marks, one could tell that they had been in North Africa for some time.

“Shut up. We are responsible for confirming that the advance of the main force will not be discovered. The orders from above must be carried out, understand?” the commander impatiently raised his binoculars and carefully observed the surrounding terrain.

Not far away was a small sand dune covered with low desert plants. There might be a small water source there. A water source was good news; at the very least, it would allow everyone to rest for a bit. After all, the map showed that the water sources in this vicinity were relatively abundant.

“We’ll rest at that patch of vegetation. Maintain alert!” the commander, with half his body out of the turret, pressed the intercom and ordered the driver of the armored car. “Park the car behind the sand dune. Don’t let us be discovered.”

After a brief conversation, two nearby motorcycles were summoned. This was a mixed reconnaissance team, responsible for scouting more than ten kilometers ahead of the main army. They were like the scouts of ancient times, the elite of the elite, each one a hand-picked, outstandingly experienced veteran.

Soon, these men arrived nearby, only to find that there were already about twenty-odd American soldiers in the vicinity. Two armored cars were parked on top of the sand dune, seemingly with no intention of concealing themselves. It was clear these American soldiers did not think they would run into the German army here, so they were all gathered by a small stream behind the dune, thoroughly enjoying a rare moment of cool relief.

The German soldiers in Poland had taught the Polish army to post sentries. The German soldiers in France had taught the French army to post sentries. The German soldiers in the Soviet Union had taught the Soviet army to post sentries. Well, it was true that they had not yet taught the Americans. So now it seemed that the Americans, not having fought a war for 20 years, had forgotten the importance of posting a guard.

What did Rommel do? In his book Infantry Attacks, he emphasized that whenever the troops stopped, they must arrange for reconnaissance and sentry posts. And whenever the troops were to attack, they must also send out reconnaissance units. Of course, Patton had also sent out his own reconnaissance units; no competent general would forget this point. The difference was whether the reconnaissance units you sent out had arranged for their own reconnaissance units.

It was clear that in terms of the detailed experience of the troops, the German soldiers, who had been tempered in the flames of war, were far superior to their American counterparts who had just joined the war. They were already accustomed to war and familiar with its various situations. They had already learned how to keep themselves alive for as long as possible. Of course, the Americans still had to learn, and the tuition fee was the lives of many, many soldiers.

This German reconnaissance detachment consisted of the scouts of the 7th Panzer Corps, who had followed Rommel all the way from Sedan in France to North Africa. Their formidable skill had been proven countless times. On the French battlefield, these scouts had stormed fortresses and independently organized attacks, capturing cities and routing the enemy on more than one occasion. They were a bit like the outriders of the Mongol Empire at its peak, more like a vanguard with a heart of attack and destruction.

So without any hesitation, the Germans launched an attack of the utmost simplicity. Two motorcycle sidecars and one armored car climbed the small hill, crashed through the low desert bushes, and appeared in front of the Americans.

Before the Americans could recover from their panic-stricken shock, the German machine guns and autocannons opened fire fiercely. Shells rained down on the American GIs. The battle lasted only two minutes before it was over. Apart from one lucky American driver who had gone to the toilet and had escaped, and was later captured by the Germans, all twenty-odd American soldiers were annihilated.

Annihilating a couple dozen Americans was not a world-shattering achievement. One must know that these German soldiers were used to the sight of a few dozen men capturing several hundred of the enemy. They quickly interrogated the surviving American driver, then assigned soldiers to take the two intact American armored cars back to their own unit.

The news quickly reached the command post of the German 7th Panzer Corps. Rommel was bewildered by this intelligence. An Anglo-American armored force of considerable size had appeared on his front? What kind of joke was this?

Although the American prisoner did not reveal the full scale of his unit, the German junior commanders still sensed a whiff of danger from some of the things he said. Some of his vague answers also revealed clues. It was clear that at the very least, these scouts belonged to an American armored infantry regiment.

No one would use an armored infantry regiment alone for a flanking assault; that would be asking to be eaten up by the enemy’s screening armored forces. So everyone could guess without being told that the opponent had a force of at least one armored division. And considering the intelligence about the strength of the Anglo-American forces, the scale of this armored force must not be small.

Rommel was torn. He did not know the scale of the opponent. The German Air Force planes he had called in for reconnaissance had been driven out of the airspace by the desperate British fighters. However, some of the returning pilots confirmed that there was a massive armored force to the German front. At this point, radio silence had been broken. The frequent reconnaissance encounters had already exposed everyone’s position, so there was no need for anyone to hide from each other anymore.

And at this moment, he also did not know whether he should retreat. After all, this battle had been meticulously planned. For this one all-or-nothing campaign, the German army had brought out most of its reserve fuel and supplies. If they were to return without success, God knows when they would be able to launch such an attack again.

Patton was equally depressed. His meticulously planned offensive had been extremely unsuccessful from the very beginning. The new tanks had a high failure rate, leaving him with only 400 tanks to use. And at this very moment, he had run into Rommel’s armored forces. To run or not to run, neither was a comfortable option.

If he were to retreat, he would have to be pursued all the way back to the vicinity of Tobruk. At that point, his fuel would have been wasted for nothing, and he would be constantly whittled down by the offense-minded Rommel. Only God knew how many troops he would have left by the time he got back to Tobruk.

And if he did not run, the situation could be even worse. The American and British tank units had a decent chance of winning if they were fighting a surprise attack or a raid, but if they were to go “head-to-head” with the German panzer forces, even Patton was not confident. If they were to suffer heavy losses in a collision and then be forced to retreat, then his Eighth Army could probably have its number retired.

The commanders of the two armored forces were both hesitating. The resources they had on hand had been transported to them from hundreds of kilometers away. To waste them once meant they would have to wait another half a month to catch their breath. As two belligerent generals, Rommel and Patton were clearly unwilling to just give up the opportunity and go back and wait for half a month. But they did not dare to push their chips onto the table, because the tanks they had were their entire reliance. They were waiting, waiting for the opponent to yield, waiting for the opponent to flinch. This was a moment to test the personal will of the generals, a contest of whose resolve was more firm.

Time passed, second by second. The reconnaissance units of both sides were constantly making contact. The Germans began to take casualties, and the American casualties were rising even more sharply. After a reconnaissance company was surrounded and annihilated by the Germans, the impatient American armored forces finally appeared on the battlefield.

A dozen or so M3 Lee tanks appeared on the battlefield. They drove off the German reconnaissance units and retook a small hill full of corpses, where they swaggered about as if to lure the German tanks into an attack.

Soon, German reinforcements also arrived. Three Panther tanks opened fire from 1,000 meters away, driving the less-armored American tanks off the hill. The two sides constantly provoked each other with high-explosive shells and machine guns. For a time, because neither had received the order to attack, no one dared to rashly assault the other’s position.

Finally, as time went on, the main forces and rear guards of both sides approached the battlefield, and their artillery also entered their respective firing positions. The commanders of both sides no longer hesitated. It seemed the opponent had no intention of retreating. At this moment, they could only bite the bullet and fight. The resolve of both sides was very firm, because they each had their own reasons to persist, because one was named Rommel, and the other was named Patton.

In terms of tanks, the German armored forces, with their small number of Tigers and large number of Panthers, had an absolute advantage. However, in terms of artillery, the 155mm cannons under the American General Patton outnumbered Rommel’s artillery. The fighter planes of both sides began to fight before the ground battle. Although the Royal Air Force suffered considerable losses, for a time, the German Air Force also did not dare to rashly send up their slower Stukas to support their ground forces.

On April 21st, 1938, the Anglo-American Eighth Army began its encounter battle with the German 7th Panzer Corps in the desert. As an unprecedented clash of armored forces on the North African front, the First Battle for Tobruk had officially begun.

Published: 2025-08-31T02:14:04.000+00:00
Last Edited: 2025-12-04T03:38:27.000+00:00
URL: https://www.patreon.com/caleredhair/posts/mtr-c503-battle-137749875

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