Chapter 643: Continue the Attack
“Attack! Attack!” a German company commander shouted, urging his soldiers to quickly cross the open desert. Groups of three to five German soldiers, carrying their weapons in a spread-out formation, ran bent over at top speed towards a nearby sand dune.
Behind them, two MG 42 machine guns roared continuously. Bullets flew over the heads of the German soldiers, sweeping towards the more distant British positions. They had to suppress the enemy’s fire points to reduce their own casualties. But soldiers continued to fall, their bodies littering the warm yellow sand, becoming a part of nature.
In front of the British position were barbed wire and a minefield. Many soldiers were blown into the sky by hidden booby traps as they ran. Some had their legs blown off by mines and lay on the ground, clutching the stumps of their knees and screaming for medics. But during an attack, medical aid was clearly not as timely as during a defense. No matter how long he called, no medic would brave the hail of bullets to reach his side.
A previous charge had already allowed the engineers to clear most of the barbed wire, but many booby traps were still laid in the open areas. It all came down to the attacking soldiers’ own luck. Combat is just that brutal, with no beauty to speak of.
Behind the attacking German forces, a Wehrmacht regimental commander was gripping a field telephone, reporting the battle situation to his superior command: “Yes! The attack is proving very difficult! I’ve already lost a company of men here! Yes! The British have laid a minefield… I cannot guarantee the speed of the attack. I’m sorry, sir, no one can ensure a smooth offensive.”
Three shells landed in an open space not far away, a few seconds apart, with deafening explosions. Sand drifted over to the regimental headquarters, and several staff officers, as well as the commander himself, were sent into coughing fits by the dust. The voice on the phone became indistinct.
“Cough, cough cough.” He coughed, tapping his helmet a couple of times to knock off the dust. “Hello? Hello? I can’t hear you… Okay, it’s better now! A few shells just landed nearby. Yes, I am attacking. The casualty figures haven’t been tallied yet. The position is still in British hands. My ammunition consumption is a bit high, and the supply trucks haven’t arrived yet.”
Not far in front of him, a dozen German soldiers were cut down by British bullets as they ran. Blood stained the desert red. Cries of agony and shouts filled the air above the battlefield, only to be immediately drowned out by the sound of gunfire and exploding shells.
Run. Cross this open space ruled by the Grim Reaper. That was the only thought. Hearing the wind whistle past your ears, hearing the gunfire from not far away, all hope was placed on your own continuous running. Don’t get hit, don’t get killed by a bullet. It was that simple.
A German soldier running beside him was suddenly hit in the stomach by a bullet. He cried out once and fell. The momentum of his run sent his falling body tumbling forward twice before coming to a stop. In an instant, the blood stained the sand beneath him red, and it was quickly dried by the heat.
Ignore the fallen comrade beside you. In this environment, no one can save anyone else. To survive is already a mercy from God; one must not waste the precious opportunity to live. Keep running forward, bent at the waist, and strive to reach a place that can offer cover sooner. This is the only way to survive. Looking back will only let a bullet find you faster and will not help the fallen in the slightest.
The objective was that sand dune which could offer cover. Establish a forward position there, then use suppressive fire on the British machine gun nests on the flank to cover more soldiers breaking through the British line. But who knew if there was another defense line behind this one? Who knew if there was another position behind this position?
Three steps away, two steps away. Just as he took the final step, this German grenadier threw himself forward, tumbling and crawling behind the sand dune. Bullets kicked up sand above his head, and the grains clattered against his steel helmet. Just a second later, another German soldier hit the dirt beside him, curling up behind the dune.
Only then did they have a chance to look back at their unlucky comrades. Some were already lying motionless on the sand. Some were prone on the ground, screaming for support. Others were writhing and wailing, praying for the medics to save them.
Tragically, the battle continued. No one would stop at a time like this. The German soldiers who had reached the attack position began to check their weapons, then carefully, inch by inch, crept to the top of the dune to aim at their targets.
“Fire!” a hoarse voice roared, filled with a vengeful, teeth-grinding hatred. The German soldiers’ long and short arms all spat fire at once. The MG 42 began to roar, the G43 semi-automatic rifles and MP-44 assault rifles all began to pour out ammunition, and even the Mauser 98k was not polite, also firing frantically.
The German fire from the flank was incredibly fierce and stunned the British. A dozen British soldiers fell. The executioners who had been madly slaughtering others just moments ago were now lambs to the slaughter. The tables had turned in an instant, and the Germans had finally gained a certain advantage. Under the cover of their fire, the remaining German soldiers began to continue their advance. More and more men entered the British trenches. The sound of gunfire gradually thinned. Another cruel battle was about to end, and countless wounded were waiting to be dealt with.
There were cheers and laughter on the position. The comrades who had fallen on the way seemed to be instantly forgotten. The men cheered for their own survival. They sorted through their ammunition and distributed supplies. Only the medics were still busy, trying to ensure that fewer of their own wounded died, and that more of the enemy’s wounded did. No one here would fight for the right of a group of wounded Indians and New Zealanders to live, especially in North Africa where medicine was scarce and precious.
In the German general headquarters, Rommel took the casualty list from the frontline troops. Yesterday’s attack had cost him 21 Panther tanks, so in today’s battle, the Germans did not commit more tanks to the attack, still using infantry as the main offensive force. The casualty figures continued to remain high, and even the commanders of some main infantry units had tactfully expressed their thoughts, hoping to pull their troops back for rest and reorganization.
The German army was attacking the flank of Alexandria from the southern region, according to Rommel’s pre-arranged plan. Even this flanking maneuver at the furthest point had cost the German soldiers a very heavy price. The British did not collapse at the first touch as anticipated. On the contrary, they used everything they could find to launch a fierce counter-attack against the German army.
“The attack on the southern flank has been blocked by the British again?” Rommel asked his chief of staff with a frown. He had expected to walk right into Montgomery’s trap and then use the German army’s pre-arranged preparations to fight a decisive battle, but he had not expected that even entering the trap would come at such a heavy price.
“Montgomery is much smarter than we anticipated. He not only wants to prepare a geographical advantage for Patton’s possible counter-attack, but he also wants to tie down our army, to wear us out and create a more favorable situation for Patton,” the chief of staff said, having just extricated himself from a pile of logistical supply documents. He stretched and said, “We should pull out. If we continue to be worn down like this, taking Alexandria will be useless.”
Alexandria was an extremely important strategic objective, but it was not the end point of the German advance. The true German objectives were Cairo and the Suez Canal further on. If they lost too many troops at Alexandria, then capturing the subsequent objectives would be extremely difficult. This was definitely not a result the German High Command wanted to see.
The task Akado had assigned to Rommel was not an easy one. Compared to the other timeline, Rommel had indeed received several times the resources. The Afrika Korps, which had originally consisted of only a few divisions, had been strengthened by Akado into a massive army group of over two corps. But this force was not just a fire brigade to clean up Mussolini’s mess in North Africa; its strategic mission was an extremely important part of Germany’s overall strategy.
Rommel’s Afrika Korps was to advance on Alexandria, then occupy Egypt, and finally capture the crucial Suez Canal, defeating the Anglo-American forces in Africa. Then Germany, together with Italy and Turkey, would enter the Middle East and support a new pro-German state there, “Israel,” fulfilling the Greater German Party’s promise to the Jews.
Controlling the Middle East, befriending Israel, and using the Middle East to exert influence on the more distant India and the Indian Ocean, and ultimately achieving the goal of ending the war, consolidating Europe, and dominating the world, was one of Akado’s established national policies. Failure would have a very adverse impact on the future of the entire Third Reich.
Therefore, Rommel, who knew of Akado’s grand strategic goals, knew that he could not fail, nor could he waste his strength prematurely in meaningless positional warfare. He closed the loss report in his hand, looked up at the theater map hanging in front of him, and remained silent, deep in thought, trying to come up with a solution that would satisfy both sides.
“Send another regiment of tanks to the front! We must take the flank and threaten Alexandria!” He finally made up his mind and said through clenched teeth, “We must lure Patton into a decisive battle with me in Egypt. Otherwise, if he retreats to the Nile or Suez, it will be even more difficult to eliminate him!”
“Since you have made up your mind, I will go and prepare. My 7th Infantry Corps will do its best to open a gap in Montgomery’s defense line and bring you victory!” General Friederici, who commanded Rommel’s most elite grenadiers, said. If he took the field, it meant the battle had reached its climax, and the decisive struggle had begun.
Published: 2025-09-14T06:54:26.000+00:00
Last Edited: 2026-02-04T19:01:05.000+00:00
URL: https://www.patreon.com/caleredhair/posts/mtr-c643-attack-138854457
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