Chapter 540: Making Trouble

An explosion shattered the tranquility of the dawn. In the vast desert, the German and Italian forces launched a full-scale offensive against Tobruk. This attack was not ordered by the High Command, nor was it planned by the General Staff. It came entirely from the hand of Rommel himself, and this attack was a gamble of immense proportions.

The Italian troops, having had their breakfast, began a fierce assault on the outer defenses of the British on the main front. They bombarded them with heavy artillery, then launched their light tanks to cover their infantry as they charged the enemy’s well-prepared trenches and bunkers. The battle began in full force at 6:40 AM, so unexpectedly that even Montgomery was taken aback.

Logically, after Germany had announced the expulsion of Japan from the Axis system following the Pearl Harbor incident, it was, to a certain extent, a time to mend the Germanophobia of the American public. This was the perfect time to strike while the iron was hot and repair the relations between the two countries. What on earth was the point of launching a sudden, fierce attack on Tobruk?

But the battle had indeed broken out. The Italian troops were pressing down on the British defensive positions in a dense mass. A brutal battle of offense and defense had thus begun. The British defenders of Tobruk did not hesitate for a moment and immediately began their fierce counter-attack.

Tobruk was not some temporary defensive position dug on the fly, but a defensive fortress that had been meticulously built over many years. The outermost perimeter of this fortress was an anti-tank ditch, followed by layer upon layer of barbed wire and concrete anti-tank stakes buried deep in the yellow sand.

Behind these obstacles was a trench system reinforced with timber and sandbags. The design was almost the same as the trenches of the First World War, a complex and effective means of defense. These reinforced trenches supported the main defensive points, forming a circular outer defensive zone around Tobruk.

On those key defensive positions were bunkers and main trenches built of reinforced concrete, with a large number of anti-tank gun positions and howitzer firing positions. They were practically independent small defensive fortresses. And in the vicinity of these fortresses, a huge number of mines had been laid.

The most fatal thing of all was that there were about 50,000 experienced and well-trained British soldiers here. These soldiers were also equipped with over a hundred tanks, forming a flexible defensive system with an internal mobile force that could reinforce any point at any time, and was also independently capable of completing its own defense.

Half an hour after the attack began, the Italian army on the main front had learned the hard way how formidable their British opponents were. Three hundred Italian soldiers were pinned down by a concealed bunker and could not move. After a British artillery barrage, only 70 of these soldiers managed to escape back.

The Italian 1st Corps, commanded by Garibaldi, suffered heavy losses. Within the first twenty minutes of the battle, he had lost 500 men, and this number was increasing with every passing second. The dense fire points on the British positions created an obstacle to his advance. Over 30 of Italy’s light tanks had been destroyed on the road of advance and were now burning fiercely.

“Support! We need fire support! Bring up the anti-tank guns! Or a mortar will do!” an Italian officer shouted to his men, watching as two of his soldiers were cut down by a British machine gun in a bunker.

On the chaotic battlefield, bullets were flying everywhere. An Italian soldier, hugging his steel helmet, cowered behind a sand dune. Beside him was the body of a comrade who had been dead for some time. Not far away, a few soldiers lay in a minefield, their arms and legs scattered around them.

Everywhere was blood and the black smoke of explosions. One after another, soldiers fell on the road of advance. The 1st Corps was the most elite unit of the Italian army in North Africa, but in the face of such a ferocious defense, they could not hold on for long.

Two Italian soldiers, carrying their rocket launcher, arrived at the designated position and, under the cover of their comrades, began to aim at the British bunker opposite them, which was continuously spitting fire. The loader skillfully loaded a rocket into the launcher, then tapped the helmet of the gunner in front.

Thump! After a muffled sound, gas spewed from the back of the rocket launcher, sending sand and gravel flying everywhere. A rocket flew towards the target at high speed and accurately hit the British bunker not far away.

With a huge explosion, the British bunker erupted in a massive fireball. The surrounding Italian soldiers cheered and, taking advantage of this rare opportunity, began to charge forward. But just less than 30 seconds later, another machine gun nest, located diagonally behind this British bunker, once again halted the Italian advance.

“Be more specific! Yes! I can’t hear what you’re saying! What do you mean the attack has been stopped? You haven’t even broken through the first defensive line?” In the rear command post, Rommel was looking at a terrain sand table of Tobruk, silently stroking the contours with his finger.

And not far behind him, General Friederici was on the phone with the Italian commander in charge of organizing the attack at the front, General Garibaldi. The sound of artillery fire on the other end was too loud, so General Friederici was shouting to confirm the situation of the attacking force.

“It was still too hasty. The British are indeed determined to defend Tobruk to the death. Our combat preparations were not sufficient,” Rommel said, shaking his head and sighing. “The large-caliber shells have been consumed too quickly, and they have not had the desired effect of suppressing the British. The Italian attack is too disorganized.”

General Friederici, who had just hung up the phone, also said with a wry smile, “Tobruk has always been an important defensive fortress for the British. For us to launch such a hasty attack, of course, we cannot expect to gain any advantage… If it were my 7th Infantry Corps attacking now, the result would not be much better.”

“At least you could break through the first defensive line, right? These Italians are simply too useless,” Rommel said, full of resentment. “They’ve been fighting for two hours, have fired so many large-caliber shells, and in the end, they haven’t even been able to break through the first British defensive line. What kind of a battle is this?”

Friederici, at his side, shrugged. “Let General Garibaldi withdraw his main force. Wiping out the Italian elite is of no benefit to us. At the very least, General Garibaldi’s Italian 1st Corps is relatively reliable in defense. If it were the 3rd Corps in the rear, would you feel at ease entrusting your flank to them?”

Of course he wouldn’t. The Italian army was divided into several classes, wasn’t it? The 1st Corps under Garibaldi’s command could at least get the job done. If it were one of those third-rate Italian units, Rommel would rather retreat than entrust his flank to them.

“We failed to take Tobruk. Now we’ll have to face the wrath of the General Staff,” Friederici continued, seeing that Rommel was lost in thought. “We’ll probably get a demerit, and one of us might even have to go back to Berlin to explain this incident…”

“I’ll go back…” Rommel said with a sigh. “After all, I’ve made more than one mistake. I don’t mind one more.”

His decision to attack Tobruk on his own initiative this time had clearly been made at a very favorable opportunity. Friederici had also agreed to this attack plan, which showed that the opportunity was very tempting.

What intelligence had made the two German generals decide to attack Tobruk? Because Patton’s Eighth Army had retreated to Egypt to rest and refit, leaving only the British Ninth Army in the entire Tobruk area. This had reduced the British forces at the front by almost half, which was enough to give Rommel the courage to challenge the defensive system of Tobruk for the first time.

Unfortunately, he had clearly failed. His frontal attack had not put the British in any crisis at all, so the German assault he had prepared on the flank was completely useless. The enemy’s reserves hadn’t even been committed, so a flank attack could not have had a good effect.

Rather than wasting precious German armored strength and elite German grenadier units in vain, it was better to quickly stop this expensive probing attack. At least it had not brought any disastrous consequences to the Axis forces in North Africa. Although the losses were great, they were still within a tolerable range: about 1,200 Italian troops had been killed in front of the British positions.

“Send a telegram to Berlin. The first attempt to attack the Tobruk area has failed,” Rommel said. “If necessary, I can set off for Berlin at once to personally explain the reasons for this failure to the Führer…”

“That wouldn’t be good, would it? It’s better if I go back. You are the military commander here. To leave the front in this state of engagement is not good, after all,” General Friederici said after a moment’s thought.

An hour later, Berlin, the Führer’s residence. Akado threw the telegram from North Africa on the table. “This Rommel, he just loves to cause trouble for me at times like this!”

“The Reich is currently repairing relations with the United States, easing the tensions between the two countries. And at a time like this, he actually launches an attack on Tobruk. Doesn’t he know how to coordinate with the decisions of the High Command?” Merkel, of the Foreign Ministry, who happened to be at the Führer’s residence to report on his work, had also glanced at the combat intelligence from North Africa.

“Suspend all military operations in North Africa. Have Rommel return to Berlin to report on his duties!” Akado said after a moment’s thought. “We can’t just let this go on. He is a general of the Reich, after all. It’s not a solution for him to always act on his own authority! Arrange a special plane for him. I will be waiting for him in Berlin.”

It seemed the Führer was really angry. Merkel broke into a sweat for Rommel, the Führer’s trusted subordinate. Anna had already gone out to issue the Führer’s order. This time, Rommel would have to return to Berlin and face the accumulated wrath of the Führer.

Published: 2025-09-03T02:52:33.000+00:00
Last Edited: 2025-12-17T17:47:31.000+00:00
URL: https://www.patreon.com/caleredhair/posts/mtr-c540-making-138000214

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