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13 April 1941. 06.30 hrs. Over the North Sea.
Flight Lieutenant John Woodside was enjoying being in the air again, even though his navigator, Flight Sergeant Arthur Grant was in his usual grumpy mood. Their photoreconnaissance Mosquito had been grounded far too long, and once again man and machine were tied together in the aircraft’s element. Taking off from RAF Benson while it was still dark, he had been flying now for an hour and in another hour or so would start descending towards the airfield at Sola where his fuel tanks would be filled again and the mission begin in earnest.
Going by what was said in the briefing at 03:00hrs the rest of the squadron would be making fairly similar flights, though all taking different routes and timings. Flying this far into East Prussia was unusual. Most the work since the squadron became operational had been in support of the army’s advances; Berlin and Stettin were the furthest east he’d ever flown. Flying from Sola in Norway they would pass down the Kattegat, avoiding Swedish airspace, then eastwards over the Baltic, turning south past Konigsberg they would be photographing the area between Rastenburg and Lötzen. Part of Arthur Grant’s grumpiness was just how little in the way of charts of the area were available and how unknown the area was for anti-aircraft emplacements, though they were warned there was likely to be a warm reception for them.
Woodside had survived his time on Blenheims in 1940, more by good luck than good management, most of his pre-war squadron mates hadn’t. The “wooden wonder” he was now flying was indeed a wonder, it was well named. The PR version he was flying was stripped down to focus only on fuel to get them there and cameras to do the work. He had every confidence that his aircraft could get its mission done and return safely, even if Bf 109s were in the area. There was no doubt he could leave them in his slipstream, so fast was the Mosquito. Grant interrupted his musings with a course correction, and the aircraft responding like a thoroughbred to the controls. It felt good be doing what he was doing.
13 April 1941. 07.30 hrs. Linton-on-Ouse. Yorkshire.
The navigators had been getting their own briefing while the pilots had theirs. The news last night that there would be flying conditions today meant that no one was too surprised to be going through this process. The target however was a bit off the beaten track. Many of the crews were well used to targets that involved the rail network of the German Reich, but attacking so far to the east was new.
It was obviously going to be a long day. On previous operations they’d all flown to Norway to refuel before going on into the Reich. The plan today was to get to Norway, then wait for confirmation of the target, then take off, hit somewhere in East Prussia, then fly back to Norway again, and be ready to do it all over again the next day. The Mustang escort group would do the same, so there should be some support to protect them. There was a possibility that the primary target wasn’t going to happen, so this part of the briefing was looking at the alternative target.
The information was that the railways into East Prussia were busier than usual, and Deutsch Eylau was a major junction. If the primary target wasn’t on, then this untouched part of Germany would soon feel the full force of the Halifaxes of Bomber Command.
13 April 1941. 08:00 hrs. Leer, Germany.
The Belgian army had played a crucial role in the fighting that contributed to the liberation of Holland. General Alan Brooke had asked that the III Corps of the Belgian Army, consisting of 2nd Cavalry Division, 2nd and 3rd Infantry Divisions would support the left flank of British First Army’s push towards the Weser, which the Corps Commander, General Beernaert was happy to do. General August Colpin, commanding 2nd Division had overseen the crossing of the Emse, which thankfully was only lightly opposed, and had taken the town of Leer with very little fighting. During the night the Valentines and DAF M39 armoured trucks of the 2nd Cavalry Division had been rafted across the river.
General Albert Mersch, OC 2nd Cavalry Division had impressed as a Colonel defending against the German attack on Belgium in May 1940. Almost a year later his men were enjoying “repaying the compliment”. General Lozet and his men of 3rd Division were awaiting the chance to get across the river and take their place in the fight. The objective was the German coast, and the towns of Emden, Norden and Aurich. The British were making their way towards Wilhelmshaven, and the Belgians would mop up any resistance on their flank. Thankfully the weather had cleared, though the ground was sodden with all the rain, meaning that the Belgian tanks would have to stick to the roads. This particular part of Germany was marshy and full of drainage ditches, and the roads were limited.
The Belgian squadrons working in the RAF structure were providing support and a squadron of Hurribombers were on call for ground attack, as well as a couple of Lysanders which provided the artillery spotters with a platform to do their job from. Two flights of four Spitfires were providing top cover, though they were being told by ground control that they were alone in the sky. The other half of the squadron was on standby at their airfield and would replace the two flights as their fuel status made it necessary for them to return to base.
The German army units in the area were few and far between, very few put up any resistance at all, others just a token resistance before surrendering. The exception was in Emden, where the Nordseewerke Emden GmbH, which had been building submarines, was stoutly defended by a mixed unit of Kriegsmarine sailors and some Luftwaffe flak units. Why these chose to fight when so many of their compatriots didn’t was a mystery to the Belgian soldiers. Two Hurribombers were shot down by light flak, killing both pilots, but the combination of napalm from the aircraft and artillery from the army soon put an end to the fighting. There were a substantial number of civilians who were killed and injured in the cross-fire and inaccurate shelling. Belgian casualties were 34 dead and 86 wounded. Four Valentine tanks were destroyed beyond repair, as were a number of other vehicles. Very few of the defenders survived to be taken to POW camps, those that did had to spend some time recovering from their injuries first.
13 April 1941. 10:00hrs. Aschaffenburg, Germany.
The arrival of air support was a mixed blessing. A force of forty bombers had plastered the town with High Explosives, however one bomber missed and killed 24 French troops, injuring many more. The losses caused the French follow up attack to be delayed, allowing the German defenders to recover enough that when the attack did go ahead, it met a solid wall of resistance. The piles of rubble also gave the Germans plenty of material for making their strongpoints more secure, and hampered the French attackers, ruling out the use of chars to give close support to the infantry.
More useful, though less obvious to the troops fighting hand to hand in the town, was the work being done by a squadron of Bloch 174s, who were interdicting German supplies and reinforcements being moved up into Aschaffenburg. This would have consequences later in the day. The cost of three aircraft to ground fire was considered a price worth paying, especially in proportion to the numbers of infantry troops being killed and injured in the attacks. Most of the civilian population had been evacuated before the fighting began, making the whole area a free-fire zone.
The French engineers had managed to get a ferry system working so that supplies and reinforcements were able to get across the river quickly enough, the expenditure of ammunition, especially grenades, was astronomical. Superior numbers were beginning to tell, however a lot of fighting and dying was still to be done before the town and its hinterland were in French hands.
13 April 1941. 14:30hrs. Sola Airfield. Norway.
Flight Lieutenant John Woodside and his navigator, Flight Sergeant Arthur Grant, were enjoyed a hot cup of tea. The flight over East Prussia had been “hairy” in Grant’s words. The aircraft had brought them home despite some flak damage. The encounter with a brace of Bf 109s had been terrifying, but the “wooden wonder” had left them behind as it exited at top speed from the area. A team of photo analysists were locked away in a room pouring over the film they had brought back.
The airfield itself was crammed with planes, the Halifaxes had all been refuelled and the crews were waiting, none too patiently, for word to continue the mission or not. The Mustangs were at Oslo and the Norwegians had two squadrons of Spitfires in the air or at readiness to provide protection for the aircraft on the ground.
The sound of roaring Merlin engines made them look out of the dispersal hut to see another of their squadron’s Mosquitos coming in to land, it looked like it had some battle damage too. A car drew up beside it as it came to a standstill and soon the panels were being opened to access the film from the three cameras. The car roared off with the film to add it to that that Woodside had brought in.
Some minutes later Pilot Officer Kenny McGeachie and Flight Sergeant John Cairns joined them, hot tea being provided for them and the four men started sharing their stories of what had happened since flying off in the hour before dawn. Close shaves and admiration for their planes were shared. What they had taken photographs of didn’t give them too much clue to the big picture. As they waited another six of their squadron mates arrived in a twenty-minute period, undergoing the same ritual of having their photographic film rushed away for analysis, and the pilots heading for the dispersal hut for tea and sandwiches. A few of the aircraft didn’t have any signs of battle damage, but the majority had some. The navigator from one aircraft was taken off the base medical office with shrapnel wounds.
In an office provided for the analysists the newly printed photographs were pored over with great intensity, each new set adding to the jigsaw they were trying to complete. Naval Intelligence had given them some general direction of where specifically to look, though why the navy would know anything was a bit of a mystery. There was obviously a lot of camouflage happening, and a forest is a good place to hide things, but with an idea of what they were looking for, and the presence of enough flak to give the Mosquitos a bit of a fright, helped to pinpoint the main target.
Once the analysists had done their job, the planners went over the information and performed their own dark arts of matching fuel loads, bomb loads, meteorological information, flak displacements, timings and all the other things that go into getting bombers over a target with a reasonable chance of destroying it and getting them home again. The planners put their work before the decision makers. These senior RAF commanders looked at the information with a serious of questions: Was the target valuable enough? Was there a good enough chance of the mission succeeding? Would the benefits outweigh the potential losses? The answers were in the affirmative, and so the navigators had a briefing, the pilots had a briefing, the bomb aimers had a briefing.
Out on the airfield the armourers loaded up the odd mix of bombs that the Halifaxes would be carrying. Some cookies, some general purpose, some incendiaries, even some cluster bombs. The Norwegian airfields were used regularly for missions such as these and so they tended to have a range of bombs in their armouries. Mechanics checked over the aircraft once again. Refuelling trucks made sure they were all carrying the correct amount of fuel that would be necessary. The Messes made sure there was enough hot food to feed the aircrew.
A bombing mission was a complex affair, with each of its constituent parts having to work in harmony. Eighteen months into the war, Bomber Command was getting good at this. In this particular case all six operational squadrons of Halifax bombers, some 70 aircraft, escorted by six squadrons of Mustang fighters, timed to meet the bombers at various stages, began to lift off heading towards East Prussia.
13 April 1941. 16:00hrs. Unna. Germany.
The two French Lieutenants shook hands, the first officers from two armies to meet one another. The GRDI regiments of 2 DM of Seventh Army and 4 DM of First Army had finally made it into Unna, signalling the final encirclement of the Ruhr. It wasn’t clear just how many German divisions were trapped, how many had escaped, and how many had simply vanished into the civilian population. It did however complete one of the Entente’s main war aims, to cut the Reich off from its war-making heart.
Over the winter the Germans had tried to shift as much of their manufacturing capability away from the front line on the Rhine. In this they had been partly successful, however the loss of the coal from the Ruhr alone was enough to put a dagger through the heart of the Reich’s economy. The First and Seventh Armies would start to look at their next objectives. It would the job of Ninth Army, made up primarily of infantry divisions, to actually reduce the pocket.
13 April 1941. 17:00hrs. Over Copenhagen. Occupied Denmark.
Wing Leader Ragnar Dogger, with his wingman Lief Lundsten protecting his tail, had just shot down a Bf 109. He wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but it felt like the Luftwaffe pilot wasn’t much of an opponent. Intelligence had predicted that a lack of fuel would be hampering training for the German pilots, so maybe the remains burning in pyre on the ground that had once been a pilot and plane, hadn’t had much of a chance. For Dogger, it didn’t matter, better the German than himself, he’d lost enough comrades in the past.
His squadron had been the first to take delivery of the Spitfire II, with the four canon and improved performance, this had been his first victory in the new type. The difference between the eight machine guns and the four canons was clear, it only took about a second’s worth of hits to blow the Bf 109 out of the sky. Sometimes with the machine guns you had to pour in a lot of lead to make any kind of fatal damage.
The Danish and Norwegian fighter squadrons based in southern Norway were covering the Hurribombers who were hitting the German airfields again, and Dogger’s victim had obviously been trying to protect his base. There was a big RAF raid heading south over the area and these attacks were part of the job of clearing a path for the bombers as far south as possible. The use of drop tanks at the beginning of the mission had given them range to come this far, but it was time to head home, and let the Mustangs take over the job of protecting the bombers.
13 April 1941. 18:00hrs. Luftgau I HQ. Konigsberg. Germany.
Generalleutnant Richard Putzier was really starting to hate SS-Standartenführer Hans Rattenhuber with a passion. He had never been particularly keen on the SS as a whole, and for most of his career, he had had very few dealings with them. Since the abortive coup, and the death of Göring, Rattenhuber had seemed to believe that the Luftwaffe forces in Luftgau I were his own personal air force. Putzier even had an order signed by the Fuhrer to that effect. What made the whole thing worse, was that what had been a real backwater for the Luftwaffe the previous year, had actually become really busy. As the RAF and AdA had ravished the Luftwaffe’s airfields in the west, more and more aircraft had been repositioned in the east of the country and East Prussia had got more than its fair share.
One Kampfgeschwader of Ju88s and one of He 111s, two Jagdgeschwader of Bf 109s, one Zerstörergeschwader of Bf 110 and even the last Sturzkampfgeschwader of Ju 87s had recently arrived at the various airfields under his command. These additions to what was already the equivalent of ten Gruppe under his command meant that most of the remaining Luftwaffe were concentrating here. Putzier had begun to wonder why more and more aircraft were being reassigned to Luftgau I, until Rattenhuber had let slip the notion of a National Redoubt, which it suddenly made sense of.
The appearance today of twin engine, extremely fast bombers that no one had ever seen before, which from all accounts seemed to be on a photoreconnaissance mission, had brought Rattenhuber to Putzier’s Headquarters. East Prussia was one of the few places in the Reich with a working radar system, which seemed to have suddenly been taken over by the SS. Reports were coming in from Denmark that there was a large raid passing over them and an alert had been put out. Rattenhuber was adamant that the entirety of the Jagdgeschwader should be put up to defend the area around Rastenburg. When he shared the reason with Putzier, it became clear that his life was literally on the line. If the RAF managed to achieve their presumed objective, then the failure of the Luftwaffe would not be forgiven, heads would roll, starting with his own. Picking up the phone he began to issue orders.
The various airfields got the message and the aircraft at readiness were scrambled to protect their home bases. Meanwhile the rest of the staffels began to get ready. Unlike the British radar system which was at the heart of an integrated network, guiding defending fighters onto incoming bombing raids at optimum heights, the Germans relied much more on standing patrols over specific areas. Some information relayed from the radar units was eventually passed on to the men in the air, but it was literally hit or miss. While available fuel for the aircraft was a bit more plentiful in this part of the Reich than in others, the Gruppe Commanders weren’t keen on wasting too much of it for no good reason. It was only as the incoming raid was tracked by Luftwaffe pilots that ground staff were able to work out where and when to send their fighters to try to intercept it.
The result of the German system was that the British aircraft were harried by relatively small numbers of aircraft once they crossed over the Baltic heading for Rastenburg. The Mustang fighter pilots, took it in turns to drop down onto incoming German fighters to impede their attacks and in many cases to knock them out of the sky. They did their job of protecting the bombers, often beyond visual sight of the bomber crews. These bombers had a minimum of defensive armament, it had been decided that their best defence was in increased height and speed, keeping the crew to a minimum. They would have to rely on the Mustangs for protection. Their own tail gunners and a forward firing flexible mount in the bomb aimer’s position was a last ditch defence. The tally of German losses were mounting, but so were the British, both fighters, and increasingly bombers.
Light was fading quickly as the bombers finally reached their target. Flak was as heavy as they had encountered anywhere, but the proximity of a number of lakes gave the bomb aimers good aiming points. The bombing was on the whole accurate. The rail line into Rastenburg was obliterated, though the main target, Adolf Hitler’s train, Amerika, was safely hidden some distance away, as was the Fuhrer himself. The SS troops suffered heavy casualties from the bombing.
As the British bombers and fighters turned back for Norway, there were increasing attacks on them by German fighters. It was only the cover of night that eventually protected them from the worst of the Luftwaffe’s efforts. The Mustangs found it more and more difficult to defend the bombers as their fuel and ammunition were being depleted all too quickly. A total of thirteen British aircraft made emergency landings in Sweden, all damaged to some degree and often with wounded aircrew. The fact that the Swedes lit their runways so that the damaged aircraft could land safely was considered provocation by the Germans. The Swedish authorities impounded the RAF planes and informed the British Ambassador of their anger at the blatant abuse of their neutrality. The aircrew were treated well by the Flygvapnet (Swedish Air Force) personnel, and a couple of weeks later were delivered quietly across the border into Norway.
The losses for the RAF was nearly 20% of bombers and fighters. The extreme range and presence of large numbers of enemy aircraft were judged to have been the fundamental problem. In future it was clear that the numbers of fighter escorts would have to be increased so that a consistent level of support would be available all the way to the target and all the way back. A single Wing of fighters had proven to be insufficient in this case.
For the SS the fact that the RAF turned up at a time and place where they Fuhrer was almost certain to be convinced them that the treason which had dogged the Germans since the abortive Norwegian campaign was not resolved. Coupled with Jodl’s coup attempt, it was clear that the treason ran deep and wide. A new purge began, starting within the Deutsche Reichsbahn with the deaths of Julius Dorpmueller, the transport minister and his deputy Wilhelm Kleinmann. There were further purges in the OKW. All command positions within East Prussia were taken over by SS officers, many of whom were entirely unsuitable for their roles. Generalleutnant Richard Putzier’s body was dumped in a mass grave along with some of his senior officers. As more Wehrmacht officers were taken, never to be seen again, by SS troops, morale, already at rock bottom was hit hard.
13 April 1941. 19:00hrs. River Weser. Germany.
At three separate places units of British Third Army arrived at the river Weser. All day they had encountered little or no opposition, and with the support of the RAF, anywhere that did attempt to impede the progress of the British troops were quickly dealt with. It became clear from units that were captured, or the interrogation of civilian authorities that the order for all German army troops to withdraw behind the river had been given at some point in the last 24 or 48 hours.
The first to reach the river were the Australians at Nienburg. The road from Sulingen was undefended, though a few mines and other booby traps had been left by the retreating Germans. The towns and villages, now that the aircraft of the RAF were back in evidence were generally flying clear signals of surrender, to avoid being bombed or rocketed. 2nd/23rd Battalion’s Comets were pushing their way forward, supported by the infantry of 2nd/15th Battalion of 20th Brigade some riding on the tanks, others in lorries and other soft skinned vehicles. The engineers were always near the front ready to deal with any obstacles to the tanks’ progress. Behind them came the rest of 7th Australian Division and the rest of the Australian New Zealand Army Corps.
The second unit to reach the Weser were the men of the 56th (London) Division. The light opposition across the river Hunte had been the only opposition they had encountered that day. Other than being careful about mines, and having to deal with destroyed infrastructure, their progress was as quick as any they had made since they crossed the Rhine. The rest of VI Corps followed up, and widened the progress, finding, as others already had that all German resistance west of the Weser had ceased. There weren’t any great numbers of prisoners captured in large groups, but there were small groups captured and lots of military age men found among the civilian population, who were thought to be deserters. 53rd (Welsh) Division and 4th (Indian) Division, with the 22nd Armoured Brigade supporting them, found themselves spreading out, taking over control of the German countryside.
The third unit to reach the Weser was the 40th (Kings) RTR accompanied by fellow Liverpudlians, 9th Battalion, King's Regiment. As the spear point of 3rd Armoured Division pushing forward from Wildeshausen, they had the furthest distance to travel, through Syke and Blender towards the Weser at Verden. The fact that no bridges were found intact meant that there was no chance to force a way across the river quickly. It was clear from reconnaissance that there was a German effort to prepare defences on the east bank of the Weser. General Brooke had already informed the Entente Supreme Commander that the British forces would pause on the western bank of the Weser. There was a great deal of work that had to be done to be able to bring forward enough supplies along the fought over countryside to resupply the troops as well as the equipment necessary to force the next river.
The railway system west of the Rhine had been repaired enough to bring forward supplies from the main bases in France. While there were a number of bridges and ferries over the Rhine and supplies were crossing freely, the road and rail system east of the Rhine were having to be rebuilt. There was beginning to be a shortage of bridging equipment because so much had to be used already. The more permanent replacement of bridges over rivers like the Meuse was proceeding so that the temporary bridges could be moved eastwards.
With larger areas of Germany falling into Entente hands there was the need to police and occupy these areas. The Rhineland was quite well pacified and the Belgians were able to move a couple of their divisions across the Rhine. 9th (Highland), 15th (Scottish) and 47th (London) Divisions, used as line of communication troops were also being given the task of policing the occupied areas. In the British sector there weren’t very many very large cities that had to be occupied. There were plenty of towns and villages that needed to have a presence that kept the peace; made sure that civic structure didn’t break down; and begin the process of denazification that would be necessary.
14 April 1941. 07:00hrs. Spitfire B for Bertie over Bielefeld. Germany.
Squadron Leader Marmaduke “Pat” Pattle had begun the war flying Gloster Gladiators in Egypt with 80 Squadron. In late May 1940, he along with six of the experienced pilots from that squadron had been shipped to France to replace losses in 85 Squadron. The transition from the biplane Gladiator to the Spitfire had been a shock to the system, but Pattle had taken to it like a duck to water. The South African was a born leader and since he’d taken command of 258 Squadron when it was reformed in November 1940. He had moulded it into a first class unit. His personal tally of kills stood at thirty, most of these had occurred from May to September last year, and he had spent the winter back in Britain bringing the new squadron to readiness.
He had instilled in each of the pilots under his command his own philosophy of defeating the enemy. Every pilot had been drilled in deflection shooting. The pilots had spent a memorable week on the moors of Scotland shooting grouse and pheasant to help learn how to shoot a moving target. The following month, Pattle had led his new squadron on a “Red Flag” exercise. At RAF Valley in Wales, 1426 Squadron, the Rafwaffe, flew captured German aircraft, using German tactics. Each RAF and AdA squadron took turns to fly against the “aggressor” squadron to hone their dogfighting skills. Pattle’s squadron had had the best results of any new squadron, only veteran squadrons had ever achieved better results.
The squadron had also imbibed Pattle’s insistence on discipline and fitness. The pilots would regularly join their Squadron Leader for his daily exercises to sharpen his reflexes and overall fitness. They were a smart outfit, with excellent flying discipline. They would taxi in formation, take off in formation and land in formation.
In the air they were trained to be aggressive but not foolhardy. Any pilot who didn’t match up to Pattle’s high standards was given one chance to improve their game. Many pilots found themselves in a one-on-one engagement with their Squadron Leader to be shown their shortcomings. If they applied themselves to improving their skills they could stay, if not, they would be encouraged to transfer to another squadron.
258 Squadron had been declared operational on 6 January and assigned to 14 Group, being based at Mill in the Netherlands. The airfield was built by the Royal Engineers. Measuring the airfield in preparation for construction began on 10 December 1940, about 1 kilometre east of the village of Langenboom. Pressure from commanders was intense, so a start was made with the bulldozers of two Field Companies on 19 December. On 1 January 1941 it was announced that the airfield would have to be completed by early February, instead of early March. Additionally, because the airfield was to be built in a sparsely populated area, a barracks camp would have to be constructed.
The work was to be completed according to a new design, which proved to be simple and well-liked by the RAF commanders. The design was based around a large central runway, with an air wing on each side. Parallel to the runway were two taxi-tracks, with perpendicular to them the aircraft parking areas (two per squadron). At the end of these well protected dispersal sites, and parallel to the runway and taxi tracks, were the support roads, connecting to the local roads on each end. This allowed the service vehicles to reach all areas without interference with the aircraft. Two feet of topside peat was dug up and placed between the aircraft dispersals for protection.
The estimated completion date of 7 February became the fixed date for military planners. A Road Construction Company and a Pioneer Corps Company tried their utmost to complete the base in time. From mid-January they were augmented by another Road Construction Company. The weather remained bad however and it soon became clear that the improved Sommerfeld Matting would have to be laid on snow and frozen sand. On 30 January it stopped freezing and by the evening of 7 February the airfield was complete enough to support a single fighter wing. Further improvements had been made since its opening and it was now home to a wing of RAF Spitfires and a Belgian Hurribomber wing.
At a distance of 120 miles from the frontline, B89 as the RAF had romantically dubbed the Advanced Landing Ground, would soon be left behind as frantic work was being done in Holland and occupied Germany to get ALGs created closer to the front lines. The distance of 120 miles was also the reason that Pattle had one eye on his fuel gauge. The fuel in the drop tanks had been used up first, but he, and his flight of eight Spitfires, now had a limited loiter time above British Second Army. Yesterday had been their first combat patrols, and not a single Luftwaffe aircraft had showed itself. Pattle was getting concerned that the war would be over before any of his squadron managed to get any kills. One of his greatest assets as a pilot was exceptional vision, and movement drew his eyes to his prey. It seemed that the Luftwaffe was putting in an appearance today after all.
Some four thousand feet below him was a German formation of about fifty bombers and a similar number of fighters stacked above them. The raid had already been picked up by radar and Pattle’s ground controller ordered him to engage while other flights were directed onto the Luftwaffe raid. Calling “Tally Ho!” the Squadron Leader led his men into battle. The diving attack meant that his two flights of four hit the Ju88s with little warning. Closing to almost point-blank range, his first burst of fire from the four 20mm canons shattered the cockpit and forward fuselage of one of the Ju88s. This began to spiral towards the ground in a death ride.
Pulling up from the dive and making a hard turn to starboard his sights settled on a second bomber. Some part of his brain noticed tracer fire from the machine guns of the bomber coming in his direction, but he was completely focused on getting his own aim just right. The bomber in his sights attempted to evade, but the smoothness of his coordination simply brought the gun sight back onto the inner wing and port engine of his target. Another short blast from the canons tore through the wing and engine, causing the aircraft to roll onto its side, looking for all the world that it would be unable to continue to fly.
Assured by his wingman that his tail was clear, he saw that a brace of Bf 109s had closed with Yellow Section, one of the Spitfires had taken damage and trailing smoke. Calling for his wingman to follow him, Pattle pulled his aircraft once more into a high g turn and put himself on the tail of the second Bf 109. His burst of fire only knocked a few holes in the enemy’s tail, a last-minute manoeuvre spoiling Pattle’s aim.
Kicking the rudder, Pattle swerved the Spitfire into a shooting position and this time there was no mistake, the Bf 109 was obviously hit in a fuel tank and exploded spectacularly. Pattle’s wingman, PO Nicholas “Tubby” Harris, warned of another pair of enemy fighters on their tail. Calling on Harris to follow him, Pattle dived away from the Bf 109s, then performed a split S manoeuvre that brought him onto the tail of the enemy fighter. For the next few minutes, it became clear that his opponent was well versed in dogfighting. The two aces performed a ballet in the sky each attempting to get into a killing position. Harris took care of the enemy’s wingman and soon the German pilot knew that if he hung around, he would follow his comrade to a fiery end.
Diving out of the fight the German pilot raced for the deck, Pattle pulling up as he became aware once again of his fuel gauge. It was time to return to base. Of the eight Spitfires from the squadron which had started the fight two had been shot down, one parachute had been seen emerging. Two others had some damage, one of those meant it had to pancake down as its undercarriage had been damaged. In reply four Ju88s and four Bf109s were confirmed kills, and there were claims of another six enemy aircraft damaged.
As Pattle’s Spitfires headed home other squadrons tore into the German formation, which generally dropped their bombs anywhere and made a run for home. The Germans had aimed to support a counterattack against the southern flank of the British advance. The German infantry never saw the aerial battle, but were convinced once again that the Luftwaffe was no use to them at all.
14 April 1941. 08:00hrs. Sennelager. Germany.
Generalmajor Ernst Groschupf, Commander of Truppenübungsplatz Sennelager, one of the Wehrmacht’s training areas, had put together quite a force. Elements of XXX Corps (50th and 164th Divisions) had been arriving at Paderborn over the last couple of days. The general order to withdraw behind the Weser seemed nonsense of Groschupf. He had been able to see that there was a gap growing between the British Second Army and the French First Army. While the French had been intent on cutting off the Ruhr, the British were going all out for the Weser and Hannover. It was clear that a counterpunch in the correct place could do a lot of harm to the Entente’s plans.
The main part of the force was 126th Infantry Division which had been under formation in the training area since October. Groschupf was able to dip into the reserves of ammunition and fuel that he had successfully managed to hide from the SS. Most of the three infantry regiments (422, 424, and 426) were at an advanced level of training, and were fully equipped. The arrival of elements of 50th and 164th Divisions added another four infantry regiments to his force. Panzer Regiment 203 had been formed in January around a core of survivors of various units that had fought in the previous year, with new additions. It was equipped with a mixture of Panzer IIIs and Jagdpanzers. The surviving artillery regiments from XXX Corps had also arrived, further strengthening the power of the scratch force. The force took the name of Combat Group Sennelager. Groschupf had contacts in the Luftwaffe and had got agreement that there would be an effort to hit the British at Gütersloh, timed to coincide with the ground attack. Everyone told him that the chances of the Luftwaffe actually managing to show up and do anything was ridiculous and not to rely on it.
The German start line was Stuckenbrock. Two regiments from 50th Division would cut the roads to Bielefeld and act as the flank protection. The two regiments from 164th Division would force their way into Gütersloh and then protect that flank. With the Panzer Regiment as the main punch, 126th Division would curve around through Warendorf towards Münster. If Groschupf’s intelligence was correct, that would put his force between the British Second Army and French First Army, splitting the Entente forces. The opposition, according to his intelligence were elements of the British 1st Mechanised Corps, particularly 50th Division, which seemed to be the flank guard. The bad weather unfortunately had cleared, that left the German forces at the mercy of the RAF. Combat Group Sennelager had a fair amount of anti-aircraft weapons and the Luftwaffe had promised a strong fighter presence to protect the counterattack.
As planned, the attacks on Bielefeld and Gütersloh had gone well in the first hours. At Bielefled the German soldiers had been confronted by two companies of 6th Battalion Durham Light Infantry, and had pushed them back quickly. They had also surprised a number of rear echelon troops many of whom were captured. At Gütersloh, a similar situation had arisen with elements of 8th Battalion of the DLI. The panzers burst through the light cordon that was provided by the motorcycle troops of the 4th Battalion the Royal Northumberland Fusiliers, making good progress towards Harsewinkel. There were plenty of small fights along the way, but most of the roads were filled with British vehicles carrying supplies forward to support the First Armoured Division and 51st Division’s push towards Minden and the Weser.
General William Ramsden’s HQ started getting panic laden calls for help just after dawn. A picture of a German counterattack began to clarify itself on the map boards. The Division’s RAF liaison was already hard at work putting together a response. Ramsden tried to get some kind of order into the chaos that had overtaken his division. Most of his three Brigades were stretched out over a fairly large area, and while they were very mobile, being able to concentrate them against the Germans at a particular spot, was going to be problematic. He contacted Q Martel the Corps Commander and Jumbo Wilson the Army Commander to inform them of what was happening. Percy Hobart’s Armoured Division, supported by the 51st Division, were attempting to take Minden. Looking for any crossings they could find over the canal and river there. Martel realised that it would take too long for them to turn around to hit the Germans from the East. The fact that they cut off from their supplies, put them in danger of being stuck in place.
Wilson spoke to Harold Alexander, who’s V Corps were to the west of Münster. Wilson asked him to push as much as he could into the town, while keeping a solid link with the French to his south. Alexander had Roderic Petre’s 12th Division respond as quickly as he could to Wilson’s orders. The other army asset at Wilson’s disposal was 3rd Armoured Brigade. Like much of the army the three Royal Tank Regiments were spread out and doing maintenance on their Matilda II tanks. Once the order was received, 2nd and 3rd RTR began making best speed towards Münster, where they would join 12th Division. In the meantime, Ramsden did his best to muster the rest of his division ,ordering units in the path of the Germans to hold as best they could while other units would try to probe the German flanks.
14 April 1941. 10:00hrs. Graz. Austria.
General Hubert Schaller-Kalide, commander of Wehrkries (Defence District) XVIII had had to move his headquarters to Graz. Klagenfurt was in Italian hands now, as was Villach and Lienz. Further west, Innsbruck was still in German hands, demolition work in the Brenner Pass had slowed the Italians down considerably. His only plan, and it was working to some degree, was to trade land for time. A German unit would make a stand until it looked like the Italians were fully deployed and ready to make an assault, then they would pull back. The next German unit would do the same, leapfrogging across one another. This way, a large part of his force was still intact and, he hoped, frustrating the Italians. Frustrating them was the best he could hope for. Stopping them with the resources at his disposal was impossible.
Every time he contacted Berlin he seemed to speak to a different General, it wasn’t clear just who exactly was in charge. The indifference he got from them was unbelievable. “Don’t you know the Ruhr is cut off?” “Don’t you know the British are at Bremen?” The fact that the Italians were taking bits of Austria was neither here nor there to Berlin. The Anschluss didn’t seem to matter anymore. In his heart of hearts he really just wanted to surrender to the Italians and get the whole thing over and done with. It was obvious that the war was lost, and he was just throwing away the lives of his men. On the other hand, the Italians were meant to be allies. The Pact of Steel obviously meant nothing and Mussolini was just like a vulture picking at the carcass of Germany, taking advantage of the situation. He would probably have waited until the Germans were at the gates of Paris before joining the war against the French last May. Now he had turned his coat and had invaded the Reich. For that Schaller-Kalide couldn’t forgive him, and so wouldn’t just roll over and eat pasta.
14 April 1941. 12:00hrs. Harsewinkel. Germany.
Captain Tom Davies, Royal Army Service Corps, wasn’t really prepared for this, neither emotionally or professionally. His was a fairly ordered life, making sure the lorries delivered the right stuff to the right place at the right time. He had his Sterling submachine gun in his hands, and forty-six “odds and sods” trying to defend this road junction from the approaching German army. An army which by all accounts was meant to be defeated and on the run. Well, the men he could see were running right enough, but in his direction following a Panzer IV. A Platoon of Durham Light Infantry were somewhere off to his left in another part of the town. At least they seemed to know what to do. Davies was the senior British officer in place and the young DLI Second Lieutenant had deferred command of Harsewinkel to him. The men had thought the name of the town was a joke, with all sorts of ribald comments, but it certainly wasn’t funny anymore.
The team with the Boys Anti-tank rifle were in a pit that would hopefully give them a half decent chance at a shot at the tank’s side. The DLI had a Carl Gustav, but they were protecting one of the other roads into the town. The problem with using drivers and cooks and other non-infantry types was that they just weren’t trained well enough for this kind of thing. Glancing around at the faces of his small HQ team Davies could see that they were just as nervous as he was.
The Boys rifle spoke and everyone could hear the round bounce off the tank. So much for that. The sergeant commanding that “platoon” had the only Bren gun, as well as the Boys, and it opened up almost simultaneously, which was the signal for everyone to pour as much fire as possible into the approaching Germans, even from the Sterlings which were probably out of range.
Davies could see the grey-clad infantry going to ground. Maybe some were hit, maybe they were just taking cover. The turret of the panzer was swivelling when the second shot from the Boys hit it. Once again it just bounced off. The co-axial machine gun opened up, as did the one in the front of the hull. Fire from the Bren gun ceased suddenly. Davies hoped it was a stoppage, but it was probably much worse than that. Fire from the sergeant’s position, like that of the Bren died away.
The other main position kept up the level of rifle fire, but a second Panzer IV had appeared, an explosion marked its short 75mm gun’s arrival into the fight. Davies could see a few of the men break cover and run. They seemed to have left their rifles behind, so they probably weren’t trying to move to a secondary position. Captain Davies could feel the same urge in himself, to run and keep running.
There wasn’t much more the survivors could do. They had no response to the German tanks and they had done what they could. Behind him in the town the lorries were burning, as were most of the stores, especially the petrol. That was the one piece of advice the DLI platoon sergeant had insisted on, not to let it fall into enemy hands. Davies had balked at that, it was his responsibility, but he had to agree.
The Germans would take back this arse winkle, but he hoped it wasn’t worth it for them. He threw down the Sterling and ordered the men within earshot to do the same. Standing up with both hands in the air, hoping not to be shot, he surrendered his motley force to the Germans. The sound of gunfire continued from the other side of the town which suggested the DLI were still putting up a fight. But as his twenty-four surviving men were rounded up and marched off, those sounds died away too.
14 April 1941. 13:00hrs. Warendorf. Germany.
The Beaufighters arrived first. They were generally carrying cluster bombs and were looking for the main anti-aircraft sites. The Germans relied heavily on towed 20mm AAA and these were the subject of much of the Beaufighter’s work. Cluster munitions are indiscriminate and other elements of the German forward units were hit. By the time the twenty surviving Beaufighters left the area, leaving four of their comrades as funeral pyres, there was very little anti-aircraft fire left other than rifle calibre machineguns.
That was when the Hurribombers arrived. There were forty-eight of these, and the vast majority carried napalm. The majority of the German divisions which relied heavily of horses, when caught in the open, napalm caused horrific devastation. Infantry Regiment 424 of Combat Group Sennelager was mostly motorised, but nonetheless the napalm eviscerated the units that had the misfortune of being attacked by it. The Hurribombers then each used their four 20mm canons add to the destruction before returning to base to refuel and rearm.
The arrival of an army cooperation Lysander was hardly noticed by the Germans trying to sort themselves out after the two raids. On board the aircraft, the Royal Artillery observer was in contact with two field regiments of Royal Artillery equipped with 25-pdr guns. Concentrating on German units untouched by the RAF attack, further devastation was wrought on the German soldiers by the artillery.
As a fighting unit, Infantry Regiment 424 was no longer capable of fulfilling its role. The survivors were either too shocked by the devastation or too busy trying to help their wounded comrades. The commanding officer and his staff had been in some half-tracks which had disappeared in a napalm fireball. The commander of the battalion that had been least affected, now found himself as the senior surviving officer but found it very difficult to gain control of the units now technically under his command.
14 April 1941. 14:00hrs. Chungking, China.
Ernest Hemingway and his wife, Martha Gellhorn, had shared a lunch meeting with Chiang Kai-shek, the leader of the Chinese Nationalists. Hemingway and Martha were covering the Sino-Japanese War for the New York based PM newspaper, just as they had covered the Spanish Civil War. As he was writing down his notes in preparation for writing an account of the lunch, what struck him most forcibly was the upbeat mood of the Chinese leader. The war had never been going well for the Chinese, the Japanese army always seemed to have the upper hand. The Chinese Communists were sometimes a help, but more often than not a hindrance to stopping the invader.
Martha had asked the question if he believed that the Japanese could be defeated and China be once again united. His unequivocal yes in response was more than a politician putting a positive face on for the press. The obvious follow up question was why he was so positive. His answer was something that Hemingway was using to hang the article around.
The first part of Kai-shek’s optimism seemed to be an attempt to butter up his American visitors. There was a large and wealthy China lobby in the United States. President Dewey’s isolationist stance was generally applauded among large sections of the American population. There were also a significant number of people who saw the Japanese invasion of China and events such as the rape of Nanking as being a matter of the greatest concern. As the defeat of Nazism in Europe looked more and more likely, Japanese aggression and International Communism were the two great causes that gripped the American consciousness. FDR had got around the neutrality acts because the war in China had never officially been declared, that had allowed Kai-shek to be the recipient of American aid. While President Dewey made a great deal of noise about enforcing the law, he hadn’t stopped the aid which had been budgeted for during his predecessor’s tenure.
The China Lobby were hard at work trying to keep American dollars rolling in, both public and private money. Hemingway learned that Madame Chiang Kai-shek was planning an “awareness raising” tour of the USA later in the year. What Hemingway was able to read between the lines was that the money coming from America was being spent on increased and better military equipment. Certainly, from his last few visits to Chinese units he was seeing more and more ex-German rifles, machine guns, mortars, artillery and even tanks in evidence. Between the Burma Road and the railway from French Indo-China, large quantities of arms and ammunition were arriving for the Chinese Army.
The second part of Kai-shek’s positivity seemed to be coming from support from the French and British. Surplus aircraft, not fit for the war in Europe, but perfectly acceptable for a Chinese air force, were also arriving. The training of pilots was still an issue, though the American Colonel Chennault was working very hard to train up the Chinese pilots as well as he could. 40 SPAD 510 bi-planes and 90 Bloch 151s coming in very useful for this task, which was just as well because getting P40s from Curtiss Wright was no longer going to happen.
Kai-shek had managed to get an agreement with the British and French banks to support Bank of China loans that would allow the Chinese to buy French and British aircraft. Morane-Saulnier and Hawker had both been approached to provide aircraft for the Chinese Air Force. Most of Hawker’s factories were already tooling up to building the Typhoon that was due to replace the Hurricane and Hurribomber. Gloster’s factory was the only one continuing to build Hurricanes and Hurribombers and was due to continue doing so until 1942. These were now aimed at the foreign market and China’s order was likely to be a big one. Likewise, Morane-Saulnier had lost out to Dewoitine and Bloch for the main French AdA types. They had been given permission by the French government to produce their improved MS 540 for foreign sales. The Swiss and the Chinese were both interested in this aircraft for their air forces.
The third part of Kai-shek’s positive outlook seemed to come from the problems that the Chinese Communists seemed to be having. Japan and the Soviet Union seemed to attempting some kind of rapprochement, and one element of that was shown in a weakening of Soviet support for Mao’s forces. While Kai-shek’s foreign support was increasing his strength, the Communists were struggling. Once again reading between the lines, Hemingway guessed that there was some kind of purge going on within the Communist Party. This smelled a lot like someone was running a covert operation to weaken the Party. Who was responsible, and how it was financed, would probably never be known, but there had been some unexplained deaths and assassinations that various factions were blaming on one another.
As Hemingway put a sheet of paper into his typewriter and poured himself another drink, Martha sat down and went over with him her own impressions. Martha was keen to visit Chennault’s training camp, as it would make a good story for the paper. They already knew that Chennault’s request for American Air Corps pilots to be allowed to volunteer had been turned down in Washington. It was clear however that Chennault had some kind of cadre of pilots who were training the Chinese. Where this cadre came from and how they got here was going to be a very interesting, Hemingway also wondered how they were being paid. Turning back to the typewriter Hemingway started to type, trying to imagine how someone in New York would read it over their breakfast in a few days’ time.
14 April 1941. 16:00hrs. HMS Illustrious. South China Sea.
The crew of the “Lusty” were a strange mixture of seasoned Royal Navy men and trainees from the Royal Australian Navy. The Australians were being trained in all aspects of the running of an aircraft carrier, in preparation for the delivery of HMAS Melbourne. The first draft of trainees that had passed through HMS Illustrious were now in Barrow-in-Furness, working with the ship builders to prepare for the commissioning of the ship. This second draft were mostly concerned with flight operations, the first had been concentrated in the engineering department.
The threefold exercise that was currently going on was to get a strike package of the carrier’s aircraft into the air. For the aircraft to have a live ammunition practice. Then to recover them and do it all over again. To the commander of the air wing. it was like an intricate dance. First to be spotted on deck was a Sussex helicopter, with the role of attempting to rescue any downed aircrew. The CAP of four Sea-Hurricanes were already in the air as normal, these would need to be replaced last. A radar equipped Swordfish was on anti-submarine patrol, it too would be replaced in due course. The strike package consisted of twelve torpedo armed Swordfish; twelve Skuas outfitted for dive-bombing; and twelve Sea-Hurricanes as escort. To round out the strike package were two ASV equipped Fulmars, these were acting as command aircraft.
Because this was a live fire exercise, the ammunition handlers had been through a great many dry runs. The Petty Officers watched like hawks every move by the artificers to make sure that all possible safety precautions were followed to the letter. The same happened with the men responsible for the fuelling of the aircraft. The movement of the aircraft from the hanger to the deck, in fact every element of the process, was checked and double checked. All of this meant that the timing was much slower than desired, and the timetable began to drift. Eventually, with the pilots of the CAP beginning to fear for their fuel state, 38 aircraft were launched, one Skua ditching on take-off, the unlucky crew were picked out of the water by the Sussex helicopter.
Three old merchant ships had been stripped out, their hulks would be the targets for the live fire exercise. The sinking of all three proved most satisfactory, though it had taken all the torpedoes and 500lb bombs of the air group. Proving that hitting sitting targets wasn’t quite as straightforward for all the pilots. The Squadron Leaders took note of which of their pilots would have extra drills to improve their aim. The Sea-Hurricanes were put through their paces with the arrival of two flights of land-based Mustangs from 243 Squadron. The fact that the RAF had actually found them was something of a surprise to the Fleet Air Arm pilots. The RAF did have help from a Sunderland which guided them to the target area. The skills of the seasoned FAA pilots were generally of a higher standard than the RAF pilots, though the Mustang easily outperformed the Sea-Hurricanes. The Sea-Hurricanes managed to prevent most of the Mustangs breaking through onto the torpedo and dive bombers. Theoretically the FAA had won the exercise, though it would have been a pyrrhic victory if it had been done for real.
On returning to the carrier, a Sea-Hurricane made a mess of its landing and the aircraft and pilot were both lost over-board. The dance began again, to land the aircraft, and then move them around as if to prepare them for a second strike. As darkness was approaching, the decision had been made not to go ahead with that part of the exercise. The earlier delays would mean the aircraft would be returning to land in darkness after the second strike. There were already enough lessons to be learned. Each of the teams would be going over and over what would need to be improved to make getting a strike package into the air, landed and turned around for a second strike quicker. Overall, the senior officers were pleased enough with the progress that the newer men had made since they had arrived on board. They had little doubt that another month or two of intensive training would have them ready to ship over to HMAS Melbourne when she was ready to sail.
14 April 1941. 17:00hrs. Minden. Germany.
General Percy Hobart was in two minds. 51st Division’s 153rd Brigade, supported by tanks of The Queen’s Bays, had successfully completed their objectives. They not only had control of most of Minden, but also an intact crossing of the Mittellandkanal. This allowed a reconnaissance force to move north and make a link up with Montgomery’s 3rd Army. A likely looking spot where a crossing of the Weser could be done had also been found. On the other hand, the Germans had cut his supply routes and General Q Martel, his Corps commander, wanted his tanks to go back towards Munster and reopen those supply lines.
10th Royal Hussars in their cruiser A13mkIVs, and 1st Battalion Rifle Brigade, had been 1st Armoured Division’s reserve for the attack on Minden. When news of the German counterattack to the Division’s rear had arrived, they were put on alert to go back down the road they had travelled, to sort out the German attack. Likewise, 154th Brigade (1st Battalion Black Watch, 7th, 8th Bn Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders) of 51st Highland Division, also in reserve, got a similar order. They were well equipped for the mobile battle, and together with the Hussars, it was a powerful battlegroup.
Hobart argued that the chance to jump the Weser was too important to be relegated to “policing supply lines”. He noted that the Corps had enough petrol and ammunition to make the attack, and press on into the heart of Germany. General Brooke’s order was to halt on the Weser. This would let the three British Armies sort themselves out, before a general assault across the river. Martel was insistent with Hobart to get the Hussars and Rifle Brigade on the road to support 154th Brigade. With 12th Division concentrating in Münster, there was a real chance to encircle a large German force. Hobart made his feelings known but acquiesced to the order.
By the time the officers got the order and sorted out the line of march and timetable it became clear that the main attack would only really be able to be done at dawn the next day. 154th Brigade concentrated in Herford and would push on towards Bielefeld. Hobart’s men would circle further south to Bad Salzuflen, then Detmold. Cutting across the German training area, they would cut the counterattack off at its base of operations. A second battlegroup of 9th Queen's Royal Lancers with 2nd Battalion Royal Rifle Corps would continue southwards from Detmold and continue on to Paderborn. This should have been a French objective, but the 1re and 7e French armies were still dealing with closing the Ruhr pocket.
14 April 1941. 19:00hrs. Telgte. Germany.
The scout platoon of Panzer Regiment 203 had been probing along the various routes, looking for the path of least resistance, to bring the panzers and infantry as far as possible into the British lines of communications. As a rule, they tended to avoid getting into fights themselves, though shooting up enemy trucks and stragglers was normal practise. They had lost a Sd. Kfz. 232 armoured car in an ambush. The four man crewed were killed as they fled the burning vehicle. That British unit had paid the ultimate price for that piece of work. One of the Panzer IIs had to be abandoned after it developed mechanical problems. The river Emse had generally covered their right flank, but here at Telgte there was a bridge that the British had constructed, replacing that which had been blown up during the retreat.
The Captain in charge of the scout platoon watched through his binoculars as British troops were obviously preparing to defend the town and its bridge. As far as he could judge there was at least two companies of infantry, but there was also at least a battery of anti-aircraft guns, Bofors 40mm guns, which looked as if they were preparing for a dual role of defending the town from aerial or ground attack. As he watched he noticed something well camouflaged, it took him a few minutes to work out what it was. On further examination, now he had a notion of what to look for, he saw another five or six. The British had tanks here. At a guess they were probably Matilda IIs. He crawled back down the hill and got onto the radio to report what he had seen. It looked as if the British had got their act together.
The Commander of the Panzer Regiment took the report and consulted the map. There was an alternative southern route that would take them from Everswinkle towards Wolbeck. But if British panzers were appearing at Telgte, then it could be that they would be appearing elsewhere. Whatever road he took there would be a fight. Moving westwards towards Münster there was always going to be the problem of crossing the Dortmund-Ems Kanal. If he could get across the Emse here and head north, that would continue to impact the British supply lines. Consulting with General Groschupf, they agreed that during the night they would prepare to attack Telgte and get across the river Emse, then continue northwards.
It would take the rest of the evening and night to get the infantry up in large enough numbers to support the panzer attack at dawn. The scout platoon commander was ordered to get as much information as possible about the British dispositions to assist in planning the attack.
14 April 1941. 20:00hrs. Münster. Germany.
General Petre arrived at British HQ in Münster. He was proud of 12th Division’s staff. They had managed to get two of the three Brigades, which had been on occupation duties and resting. They were now fully equipped in their new positions along the Dortmund-Ems Canal. 35th and 36th Brigades had moved north and south of Münster respectively. In Münster itself 25th Brigade of 50th Division had been concentrating, ready to work with the arriving 3rd RTR, to push back against the German attack. General Jumbo Wilson, commander of British 2nd Army was confident that the plan to bag the German troops was coming together.
General Prételat had been informed of the German attack, and had given warning to the French armies to be prepared to support the British if necessary. It was becoming clear that the German attack was limited in scope, more of a nuisance that a major threat. The opportunity to take another three German divisions off their order of battle was welcome. Looking over the maps at the Entente’s progress for the last twenty-four hours was encouraging.
Other than this counter attack, most German resistance up to the Weser was limited. The fighting around the river Main was continuing, That was a grinding effort, but General Sivot was convinced that his men would prevail shortly, opening up a drive southwards into Bavaria. Negotiations with the German commander of the Ruhr pocket were looking like they would produce a surrender, which would make a huge difference to the French First Army Group.
German radio had made no reference to the British attempt to kill Hitler in East Prussia, but German radio wasn’t what it used to be. The best intelligence estimates were that the Nazi apparatus were withdrawing to the East and letting the rest of the Germans to get on with it. This of course was being relayed continually by British and French radio in their German programs. Hoping that the “abandonment” of the German people by their so-called leadership would cause an even quicker collapse. It seemed that the commander in the Ruhr looked as if he was being persuaded of this.
The situation from the point of view of supplies was also looking quite satisfactory. There had been a briefing which had noted while expenditure of stocks of ammunition continued to be high, the factories in Britain and France, and increasingly in Belgium, were keeping pace. Petrol, oil and lubricants were also available in good quantities. As General Brooke had noted, the problem of supply was getting enough forward to the front line over ground that had been fought over. Bridging equipment was one of the crucial factors, especially in the Netherlands. The repair of the railroads and their bridges was amongst the highest of priorities. Civilian rail companies from Britain and France had been asked to provide their expertise and spare stock to put the European rail network back together.
Since May last year the numbers of Entente casualties was running at nearly 400000, about one third of that number dead and the rest wounded or missing. The infantry soldiers as usual took the highest losses, the pilots and aircrew of the air forces likewise had suffered heavily. Estimated German casualties were somewhere nearer three times that number, with a larger proportion of these as captured. The number of German civilian deaths wasn’t entirely clear, but certainly higher than French and British equivalents. The Dutch and Belgian civilian losses were worse as they had been fought over twice. It wasn’t the Great War in terms of losses, but it was bad enough. There was still a good bit of fighting to be done, though why the Germans didn’t just give up when they were so obviously defeated already was a mystery.
Flight Lieutenant John Woodside was enjoying being in the air again, even though his navigator, Flight Sergeant Arthur Grant was in his usual grumpy mood. Their photoreconnaissance Mosquito had been grounded far too long, and once again man and machine were tied together in the aircraft’s element. Taking off from RAF Benson while it was still dark, he had been flying now for an hour and in another hour or so would start descending towards the airfield at Sola where his fuel tanks would be filled again and the mission begin in earnest.
Going by what was said in the briefing at 03:00hrs the rest of the squadron would be making fairly similar flights, though all taking different routes and timings. Flying this far into East Prussia was unusual. Most the work since the squadron became operational had been in support of the army’s advances; Berlin and Stettin were the furthest east he’d ever flown. Flying from Sola in Norway they would pass down the Kattegat, avoiding Swedish airspace, then eastwards over the Baltic, turning south past Konigsberg they would be photographing the area between Rastenburg and Lötzen. Part of Arthur Grant’s grumpiness was just how little in the way of charts of the area were available and how unknown the area was for anti-aircraft emplacements, though they were warned there was likely to be a warm reception for them.
Woodside had survived his time on Blenheims in 1940, more by good luck than good management, most of his pre-war squadron mates hadn’t. The “wooden wonder” he was now flying was indeed a wonder, it was well named. The PR version he was flying was stripped down to focus only on fuel to get them there and cameras to do the work. He had every confidence that his aircraft could get its mission done and return safely, even if Bf 109s were in the area. There was no doubt he could leave them in his slipstream, so fast was the Mosquito. Grant interrupted his musings with a course correction, and the aircraft responding like a thoroughbred to the controls. It felt good be doing what he was doing.
13 April 1941. 07.30 hrs. Linton-on-Ouse. Yorkshire.
The navigators had been getting their own briefing while the pilots had theirs. The news last night that there would be flying conditions today meant that no one was too surprised to be going through this process. The target however was a bit off the beaten track. Many of the crews were well used to targets that involved the rail network of the German Reich, but attacking so far to the east was new.
It was obviously going to be a long day. On previous operations they’d all flown to Norway to refuel before going on into the Reich. The plan today was to get to Norway, then wait for confirmation of the target, then take off, hit somewhere in East Prussia, then fly back to Norway again, and be ready to do it all over again the next day. The Mustang escort group would do the same, so there should be some support to protect them. There was a possibility that the primary target wasn’t going to happen, so this part of the briefing was looking at the alternative target.
The information was that the railways into East Prussia were busier than usual, and Deutsch Eylau was a major junction. If the primary target wasn’t on, then this untouched part of Germany would soon feel the full force of the Halifaxes of Bomber Command.
13 April 1941. 08:00 hrs. Leer, Germany.
The Belgian army had played a crucial role in the fighting that contributed to the liberation of Holland. General Alan Brooke had asked that the III Corps of the Belgian Army, consisting of 2nd Cavalry Division, 2nd and 3rd Infantry Divisions would support the left flank of British First Army’s push towards the Weser, which the Corps Commander, General Beernaert was happy to do. General August Colpin, commanding 2nd Division had overseen the crossing of the Emse, which thankfully was only lightly opposed, and had taken the town of Leer with very little fighting. During the night the Valentines and DAF M39 armoured trucks of the 2nd Cavalry Division had been rafted across the river.
General Albert Mersch, OC 2nd Cavalry Division had impressed as a Colonel defending against the German attack on Belgium in May 1940. Almost a year later his men were enjoying “repaying the compliment”. General Lozet and his men of 3rd Division were awaiting the chance to get across the river and take their place in the fight. The objective was the German coast, and the towns of Emden, Norden and Aurich. The British were making their way towards Wilhelmshaven, and the Belgians would mop up any resistance on their flank. Thankfully the weather had cleared, though the ground was sodden with all the rain, meaning that the Belgian tanks would have to stick to the roads. This particular part of Germany was marshy and full of drainage ditches, and the roads were limited.
The Belgian squadrons working in the RAF structure were providing support and a squadron of Hurribombers were on call for ground attack, as well as a couple of Lysanders which provided the artillery spotters with a platform to do their job from. Two flights of four Spitfires were providing top cover, though they were being told by ground control that they were alone in the sky. The other half of the squadron was on standby at their airfield and would replace the two flights as their fuel status made it necessary for them to return to base.
The German army units in the area were few and far between, very few put up any resistance at all, others just a token resistance before surrendering. The exception was in Emden, where the Nordseewerke Emden GmbH, which had been building submarines, was stoutly defended by a mixed unit of Kriegsmarine sailors and some Luftwaffe flak units. Why these chose to fight when so many of their compatriots didn’t was a mystery to the Belgian soldiers. Two Hurribombers were shot down by light flak, killing both pilots, but the combination of napalm from the aircraft and artillery from the army soon put an end to the fighting. There were a substantial number of civilians who were killed and injured in the cross-fire and inaccurate shelling. Belgian casualties were 34 dead and 86 wounded. Four Valentine tanks were destroyed beyond repair, as were a number of other vehicles. Very few of the defenders survived to be taken to POW camps, those that did had to spend some time recovering from their injuries first.
13 April 1941. 10:00hrs. Aschaffenburg, Germany.
The arrival of air support was a mixed blessing. A force of forty bombers had plastered the town with High Explosives, however one bomber missed and killed 24 French troops, injuring many more. The losses caused the French follow up attack to be delayed, allowing the German defenders to recover enough that when the attack did go ahead, it met a solid wall of resistance. The piles of rubble also gave the Germans plenty of material for making their strongpoints more secure, and hampered the French attackers, ruling out the use of chars to give close support to the infantry.
More useful, though less obvious to the troops fighting hand to hand in the town, was the work being done by a squadron of Bloch 174s, who were interdicting German supplies and reinforcements being moved up into Aschaffenburg. This would have consequences later in the day. The cost of three aircraft to ground fire was considered a price worth paying, especially in proportion to the numbers of infantry troops being killed and injured in the attacks. Most of the civilian population had been evacuated before the fighting began, making the whole area a free-fire zone.
The French engineers had managed to get a ferry system working so that supplies and reinforcements were able to get across the river quickly enough, the expenditure of ammunition, especially grenades, was astronomical. Superior numbers were beginning to tell, however a lot of fighting and dying was still to be done before the town and its hinterland were in French hands.
13 April 1941. 14:30hrs. Sola Airfield. Norway.
Flight Lieutenant John Woodside and his navigator, Flight Sergeant Arthur Grant, were enjoyed a hot cup of tea. The flight over East Prussia had been “hairy” in Grant’s words. The aircraft had brought them home despite some flak damage. The encounter with a brace of Bf 109s had been terrifying, but the “wooden wonder” had left them behind as it exited at top speed from the area. A team of photo analysists were locked away in a room pouring over the film they had brought back.
The airfield itself was crammed with planes, the Halifaxes had all been refuelled and the crews were waiting, none too patiently, for word to continue the mission or not. The Mustangs were at Oslo and the Norwegians had two squadrons of Spitfires in the air or at readiness to provide protection for the aircraft on the ground.
The sound of roaring Merlin engines made them look out of the dispersal hut to see another of their squadron’s Mosquitos coming in to land, it looked like it had some battle damage too. A car drew up beside it as it came to a standstill and soon the panels were being opened to access the film from the three cameras. The car roared off with the film to add it to that that Woodside had brought in.
Some minutes later Pilot Officer Kenny McGeachie and Flight Sergeant John Cairns joined them, hot tea being provided for them and the four men started sharing their stories of what had happened since flying off in the hour before dawn. Close shaves and admiration for their planes were shared. What they had taken photographs of didn’t give them too much clue to the big picture. As they waited another six of their squadron mates arrived in a twenty-minute period, undergoing the same ritual of having their photographic film rushed away for analysis, and the pilots heading for the dispersal hut for tea and sandwiches. A few of the aircraft didn’t have any signs of battle damage, but the majority had some. The navigator from one aircraft was taken off the base medical office with shrapnel wounds.
In an office provided for the analysists the newly printed photographs were pored over with great intensity, each new set adding to the jigsaw they were trying to complete. Naval Intelligence had given them some general direction of where specifically to look, though why the navy would know anything was a bit of a mystery. There was obviously a lot of camouflage happening, and a forest is a good place to hide things, but with an idea of what they were looking for, and the presence of enough flak to give the Mosquitos a bit of a fright, helped to pinpoint the main target.
Once the analysists had done their job, the planners went over the information and performed their own dark arts of matching fuel loads, bomb loads, meteorological information, flak displacements, timings and all the other things that go into getting bombers over a target with a reasonable chance of destroying it and getting them home again. The planners put their work before the decision makers. These senior RAF commanders looked at the information with a serious of questions: Was the target valuable enough? Was there a good enough chance of the mission succeeding? Would the benefits outweigh the potential losses? The answers were in the affirmative, and so the navigators had a briefing, the pilots had a briefing, the bomb aimers had a briefing.
Out on the airfield the armourers loaded up the odd mix of bombs that the Halifaxes would be carrying. Some cookies, some general purpose, some incendiaries, even some cluster bombs. The Norwegian airfields were used regularly for missions such as these and so they tended to have a range of bombs in their armouries. Mechanics checked over the aircraft once again. Refuelling trucks made sure they were all carrying the correct amount of fuel that would be necessary. The Messes made sure there was enough hot food to feed the aircrew.
A bombing mission was a complex affair, with each of its constituent parts having to work in harmony. Eighteen months into the war, Bomber Command was getting good at this. In this particular case all six operational squadrons of Halifax bombers, some 70 aircraft, escorted by six squadrons of Mustang fighters, timed to meet the bombers at various stages, began to lift off heading towards East Prussia.
13 April 1941. 16:00hrs. Unna. Germany.
The two French Lieutenants shook hands, the first officers from two armies to meet one another. The GRDI regiments of 2 DM of Seventh Army and 4 DM of First Army had finally made it into Unna, signalling the final encirclement of the Ruhr. It wasn’t clear just how many German divisions were trapped, how many had escaped, and how many had simply vanished into the civilian population. It did however complete one of the Entente’s main war aims, to cut the Reich off from its war-making heart.
Over the winter the Germans had tried to shift as much of their manufacturing capability away from the front line on the Rhine. In this they had been partly successful, however the loss of the coal from the Ruhr alone was enough to put a dagger through the heart of the Reich’s economy. The First and Seventh Armies would start to look at their next objectives. It would the job of Ninth Army, made up primarily of infantry divisions, to actually reduce the pocket.
13 April 1941. 17:00hrs. Over Copenhagen. Occupied Denmark.
Wing Leader Ragnar Dogger, with his wingman Lief Lundsten protecting his tail, had just shot down a Bf 109. He wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but it felt like the Luftwaffe pilot wasn’t much of an opponent. Intelligence had predicted that a lack of fuel would be hampering training for the German pilots, so maybe the remains burning in pyre on the ground that had once been a pilot and plane, hadn’t had much of a chance. For Dogger, it didn’t matter, better the German than himself, he’d lost enough comrades in the past.
His squadron had been the first to take delivery of the Spitfire II, with the four canon and improved performance, this had been his first victory in the new type. The difference between the eight machine guns and the four canons was clear, it only took about a second’s worth of hits to blow the Bf 109 out of the sky. Sometimes with the machine guns you had to pour in a lot of lead to make any kind of fatal damage.
The Danish and Norwegian fighter squadrons based in southern Norway were covering the Hurribombers who were hitting the German airfields again, and Dogger’s victim had obviously been trying to protect his base. There was a big RAF raid heading south over the area and these attacks were part of the job of clearing a path for the bombers as far south as possible. The use of drop tanks at the beginning of the mission had given them range to come this far, but it was time to head home, and let the Mustangs take over the job of protecting the bombers.
13 April 1941. 18:00hrs. Luftgau I HQ. Konigsberg. Germany.
Generalleutnant Richard Putzier was really starting to hate SS-Standartenführer Hans Rattenhuber with a passion. He had never been particularly keen on the SS as a whole, and for most of his career, he had had very few dealings with them. Since the abortive coup, and the death of Göring, Rattenhuber had seemed to believe that the Luftwaffe forces in Luftgau I were his own personal air force. Putzier even had an order signed by the Fuhrer to that effect. What made the whole thing worse, was that what had been a real backwater for the Luftwaffe the previous year, had actually become really busy. As the RAF and AdA had ravished the Luftwaffe’s airfields in the west, more and more aircraft had been repositioned in the east of the country and East Prussia had got more than its fair share.
One Kampfgeschwader of Ju88s and one of He 111s, two Jagdgeschwader of Bf 109s, one Zerstörergeschwader of Bf 110 and even the last Sturzkampfgeschwader of Ju 87s had recently arrived at the various airfields under his command. These additions to what was already the equivalent of ten Gruppe under his command meant that most of the remaining Luftwaffe were concentrating here. Putzier had begun to wonder why more and more aircraft were being reassigned to Luftgau I, until Rattenhuber had let slip the notion of a National Redoubt, which it suddenly made sense of.
The appearance today of twin engine, extremely fast bombers that no one had ever seen before, which from all accounts seemed to be on a photoreconnaissance mission, had brought Rattenhuber to Putzier’s Headquarters. East Prussia was one of the few places in the Reich with a working radar system, which seemed to have suddenly been taken over by the SS. Reports were coming in from Denmark that there was a large raid passing over them and an alert had been put out. Rattenhuber was adamant that the entirety of the Jagdgeschwader should be put up to defend the area around Rastenburg. When he shared the reason with Putzier, it became clear that his life was literally on the line. If the RAF managed to achieve their presumed objective, then the failure of the Luftwaffe would not be forgiven, heads would roll, starting with his own. Picking up the phone he began to issue orders.
The various airfields got the message and the aircraft at readiness were scrambled to protect their home bases. Meanwhile the rest of the staffels began to get ready. Unlike the British radar system which was at the heart of an integrated network, guiding defending fighters onto incoming bombing raids at optimum heights, the Germans relied much more on standing patrols over specific areas. Some information relayed from the radar units was eventually passed on to the men in the air, but it was literally hit or miss. While available fuel for the aircraft was a bit more plentiful in this part of the Reich than in others, the Gruppe Commanders weren’t keen on wasting too much of it for no good reason. It was only as the incoming raid was tracked by Luftwaffe pilots that ground staff were able to work out where and when to send their fighters to try to intercept it.
The result of the German system was that the British aircraft were harried by relatively small numbers of aircraft once they crossed over the Baltic heading for Rastenburg. The Mustang fighter pilots, took it in turns to drop down onto incoming German fighters to impede their attacks and in many cases to knock them out of the sky. They did their job of protecting the bombers, often beyond visual sight of the bomber crews. These bombers had a minimum of defensive armament, it had been decided that their best defence was in increased height and speed, keeping the crew to a minimum. They would have to rely on the Mustangs for protection. Their own tail gunners and a forward firing flexible mount in the bomb aimer’s position was a last ditch defence. The tally of German losses were mounting, but so were the British, both fighters, and increasingly bombers.
Light was fading quickly as the bombers finally reached their target. Flak was as heavy as they had encountered anywhere, but the proximity of a number of lakes gave the bomb aimers good aiming points. The bombing was on the whole accurate. The rail line into Rastenburg was obliterated, though the main target, Adolf Hitler’s train, Amerika, was safely hidden some distance away, as was the Fuhrer himself. The SS troops suffered heavy casualties from the bombing.
As the British bombers and fighters turned back for Norway, there were increasing attacks on them by German fighters. It was only the cover of night that eventually protected them from the worst of the Luftwaffe’s efforts. The Mustangs found it more and more difficult to defend the bombers as their fuel and ammunition were being depleted all too quickly. A total of thirteen British aircraft made emergency landings in Sweden, all damaged to some degree and often with wounded aircrew. The fact that the Swedes lit their runways so that the damaged aircraft could land safely was considered provocation by the Germans. The Swedish authorities impounded the RAF planes and informed the British Ambassador of their anger at the blatant abuse of their neutrality. The aircrew were treated well by the Flygvapnet (Swedish Air Force) personnel, and a couple of weeks later were delivered quietly across the border into Norway.
The losses for the RAF was nearly 20% of bombers and fighters. The extreme range and presence of large numbers of enemy aircraft were judged to have been the fundamental problem. In future it was clear that the numbers of fighter escorts would have to be increased so that a consistent level of support would be available all the way to the target and all the way back. A single Wing of fighters had proven to be insufficient in this case.
For the SS the fact that the RAF turned up at a time and place where they Fuhrer was almost certain to be convinced them that the treason which had dogged the Germans since the abortive Norwegian campaign was not resolved. Coupled with Jodl’s coup attempt, it was clear that the treason ran deep and wide. A new purge began, starting within the Deutsche Reichsbahn with the deaths of Julius Dorpmueller, the transport minister and his deputy Wilhelm Kleinmann. There were further purges in the OKW. All command positions within East Prussia were taken over by SS officers, many of whom were entirely unsuitable for their roles. Generalleutnant Richard Putzier’s body was dumped in a mass grave along with some of his senior officers. As more Wehrmacht officers were taken, never to be seen again, by SS troops, morale, already at rock bottom was hit hard.
13 April 1941. 19:00hrs. River Weser. Germany.
At three separate places units of British Third Army arrived at the river Weser. All day they had encountered little or no opposition, and with the support of the RAF, anywhere that did attempt to impede the progress of the British troops were quickly dealt with. It became clear from units that were captured, or the interrogation of civilian authorities that the order for all German army troops to withdraw behind the river had been given at some point in the last 24 or 48 hours.
The first to reach the river were the Australians at Nienburg. The road from Sulingen was undefended, though a few mines and other booby traps had been left by the retreating Germans. The towns and villages, now that the aircraft of the RAF were back in evidence were generally flying clear signals of surrender, to avoid being bombed or rocketed. 2nd/23rd Battalion’s Comets were pushing their way forward, supported by the infantry of 2nd/15th Battalion of 20th Brigade some riding on the tanks, others in lorries and other soft skinned vehicles. The engineers were always near the front ready to deal with any obstacles to the tanks’ progress. Behind them came the rest of 7th Australian Division and the rest of the Australian New Zealand Army Corps.
The second unit to reach the Weser were the men of the 56th (London) Division. The light opposition across the river Hunte had been the only opposition they had encountered that day. Other than being careful about mines, and having to deal with destroyed infrastructure, their progress was as quick as any they had made since they crossed the Rhine. The rest of VI Corps followed up, and widened the progress, finding, as others already had that all German resistance west of the Weser had ceased. There weren’t any great numbers of prisoners captured in large groups, but there were small groups captured and lots of military age men found among the civilian population, who were thought to be deserters. 53rd (Welsh) Division and 4th (Indian) Division, with the 22nd Armoured Brigade supporting them, found themselves spreading out, taking over control of the German countryside.
The third unit to reach the Weser was the 40th (Kings) RTR accompanied by fellow Liverpudlians, 9th Battalion, King's Regiment. As the spear point of 3rd Armoured Division pushing forward from Wildeshausen, they had the furthest distance to travel, through Syke and Blender towards the Weser at Verden. The fact that no bridges were found intact meant that there was no chance to force a way across the river quickly. It was clear from reconnaissance that there was a German effort to prepare defences on the east bank of the Weser. General Brooke had already informed the Entente Supreme Commander that the British forces would pause on the western bank of the Weser. There was a great deal of work that had to be done to be able to bring forward enough supplies along the fought over countryside to resupply the troops as well as the equipment necessary to force the next river.
The railway system west of the Rhine had been repaired enough to bring forward supplies from the main bases in France. While there were a number of bridges and ferries over the Rhine and supplies were crossing freely, the road and rail system east of the Rhine were having to be rebuilt. There was beginning to be a shortage of bridging equipment because so much had to be used already. The more permanent replacement of bridges over rivers like the Meuse was proceeding so that the temporary bridges could be moved eastwards.
With larger areas of Germany falling into Entente hands there was the need to police and occupy these areas. The Rhineland was quite well pacified and the Belgians were able to move a couple of their divisions across the Rhine. 9th (Highland), 15th (Scottish) and 47th (London) Divisions, used as line of communication troops were also being given the task of policing the occupied areas. In the British sector there weren’t very many very large cities that had to be occupied. There were plenty of towns and villages that needed to have a presence that kept the peace; made sure that civic structure didn’t break down; and begin the process of denazification that would be necessary.
14 April 1941. 07:00hrs. Spitfire B for Bertie over Bielefeld. Germany.
Squadron Leader Marmaduke “Pat” Pattle had begun the war flying Gloster Gladiators in Egypt with 80 Squadron. In late May 1940, he along with six of the experienced pilots from that squadron had been shipped to France to replace losses in 85 Squadron. The transition from the biplane Gladiator to the Spitfire had been a shock to the system, but Pattle had taken to it like a duck to water. The South African was a born leader and since he’d taken command of 258 Squadron when it was reformed in November 1940. He had moulded it into a first class unit. His personal tally of kills stood at thirty, most of these had occurred from May to September last year, and he had spent the winter back in Britain bringing the new squadron to readiness.
He had instilled in each of the pilots under his command his own philosophy of defeating the enemy. Every pilot had been drilled in deflection shooting. The pilots had spent a memorable week on the moors of Scotland shooting grouse and pheasant to help learn how to shoot a moving target. The following month, Pattle had led his new squadron on a “Red Flag” exercise. At RAF Valley in Wales, 1426 Squadron, the Rafwaffe, flew captured German aircraft, using German tactics. Each RAF and AdA squadron took turns to fly against the “aggressor” squadron to hone their dogfighting skills. Pattle’s squadron had had the best results of any new squadron, only veteran squadrons had ever achieved better results.
The squadron had also imbibed Pattle’s insistence on discipline and fitness. The pilots would regularly join their Squadron Leader for his daily exercises to sharpen his reflexes and overall fitness. They were a smart outfit, with excellent flying discipline. They would taxi in formation, take off in formation and land in formation.
In the air they were trained to be aggressive but not foolhardy. Any pilot who didn’t match up to Pattle’s high standards was given one chance to improve their game. Many pilots found themselves in a one-on-one engagement with their Squadron Leader to be shown their shortcomings. If they applied themselves to improving their skills they could stay, if not, they would be encouraged to transfer to another squadron.
258 Squadron had been declared operational on 6 January and assigned to 14 Group, being based at Mill in the Netherlands. The airfield was built by the Royal Engineers. Measuring the airfield in preparation for construction began on 10 December 1940, about 1 kilometre east of the village of Langenboom. Pressure from commanders was intense, so a start was made with the bulldozers of two Field Companies on 19 December. On 1 January 1941 it was announced that the airfield would have to be completed by early February, instead of early March. Additionally, because the airfield was to be built in a sparsely populated area, a barracks camp would have to be constructed.
The work was to be completed according to a new design, which proved to be simple and well-liked by the RAF commanders. The design was based around a large central runway, with an air wing on each side. Parallel to the runway were two taxi-tracks, with perpendicular to them the aircraft parking areas (two per squadron). At the end of these well protected dispersal sites, and parallel to the runway and taxi tracks, were the support roads, connecting to the local roads on each end. This allowed the service vehicles to reach all areas without interference with the aircraft. Two feet of topside peat was dug up and placed between the aircraft dispersals for protection.
The estimated completion date of 7 February became the fixed date for military planners. A Road Construction Company and a Pioneer Corps Company tried their utmost to complete the base in time. From mid-January they were augmented by another Road Construction Company. The weather remained bad however and it soon became clear that the improved Sommerfeld Matting would have to be laid on snow and frozen sand. On 30 January it stopped freezing and by the evening of 7 February the airfield was complete enough to support a single fighter wing. Further improvements had been made since its opening and it was now home to a wing of RAF Spitfires and a Belgian Hurribomber wing.
At a distance of 120 miles from the frontline, B89 as the RAF had romantically dubbed the Advanced Landing Ground, would soon be left behind as frantic work was being done in Holland and occupied Germany to get ALGs created closer to the front lines. The distance of 120 miles was also the reason that Pattle had one eye on his fuel gauge. The fuel in the drop tanks had been used up first, but he, and his flight of eight Spitfires, now had a limited loiter time above British Second Army. Yesterday had been their first combat patrols, and not a single Luftwaffe aircraft had showed itself. Pattle was getting concerned that the war would be over before any of his squadron managed to get any kills. One of his greatest assets as a pilot was exceptional vision, and movement drew his eyes to his prey. It seemed that the Luftwaffe was putting in an appearance today after all.
Some four thousand feet below him was a German formation of about fifty bombers and a similar number of fighters stacked above them. The raid had already been picked up by radar and Pattle’s ground controller ordered him to engage while other flights were directed onto the Luftwaffe raid. Calling “Tally Ho!” the Squadron Leader led his men into battle. The diving attack meant that his two flights of four hit the Ju88s with little warning. Closing to almost point-blank range, his first burst of fire from the four 20mm canons shattered the cockpit and forward fuselage of one of the Ju88s. This began to spiral towards the ground in a death ride.
Pulling up from the dive and making a hard turn to starboard his sights settled on a second bomber. Some part of his brain noticed tracer fire from the machine guns of the bomber coming in his direction, but he was completely focused on getting his own aim just right. The bomber in his sights attempted to evade, but the smoothness of his coordination simply brought the gun sight back onto the inner wing and port engine of his target. Another short blast from the canons tore through the wing and engine, causing the aircraft to roll onto its side, looking for all the world that it would be unable to continue to fly.
Assured by his wingman that his tail was clear, he saw that a brace of Bf 109s had closed with Yellow Section, one of the Spitfires had taken damage and trailing smoke. Calling for his wingman to follow him, Pattle pulled his aircraft once more into a high g turn and put himself on the tail of the second Bf 109. His burst of fire only knocked a few holes in the enemy’s tail, a last-minute manoeuvre spoiling Pattle’s aim.
Kicking the rudder, Pattle swerved the Spitfire into a shooting position and this time there was no mistake, the Bf 109 was obviously hit in a fuel tank and exploded spectacularly. Pattle’s wingman, PO Nicholas “Tubby” Harris, warned of another pair of enemy fighters on their tail. Calling on Harris to follow him, Pattle dived away from the Bf 109s, then performed a split S manoeuvre that brought him onto the tail of the enemy fighter. For the next few minutes, it became clear that his opponent was well versed in dogfighting. The two aces performed a ballet in the sky each attempting to get into a killing position. Harris took care of the enemy’s wingman and soon the German pilot knew that if he hung around, he would follow his comrade to a fiery end.
Diving out of the fight the German pilot raced for the deck, Pattle pulling up as he became aware once again of his fuel gauge. It was time to return to base. Of the eight Spitfires from the squadron which had started the fight two had been shot down, one parachute had been seen emerging. Two others had some damage, one of those meant it had to pancake down as its undercarriage had been damaged. In reply four Ju88s and four Bf109s were confirmed kills, and there were claims of another six enemy aircraft damaged.
As Pattle’s Spitfires headed home other squadrons tore into the German formation, which generally dropped their bombs anywhere and made a run for home. The Germans had aimed to support a counterattack against the southern flank of the British advance. The German infantry never saw the aerial battle, but were convinced once again that the Luftwaffe was no use to them at all.
14 April 1941. 08:00hrs. Sennelager. Germany.
Generalmajor Ernst Groschupf, Commander of Truppenübungsplatz Sennelager, one of the Wehrmacht’s training areas, had put together quite a force. Elements of XXX Corps (50th and 164th Divisions) had been arriving at Paderborn over the last couple of days. The general order to withdraw behind the Weser seemed nonsense of Groschupf. He had been able to see that there was a gap growing between the British Second Army and the French First Army. While the French had been intent on cutting off the Ruhr, the British were going all out for the Weser and Hannover. It was clear that a counterpunch in the correct place could do a lot of harm to the Entente’s plans.
The main part of the force was 126th Infantry Division which had been under formation in the training area since October. Groschupf was able to dip into the reserves of ammunition and fuel that he had successfully managed to hide from the SS. Most of the three infantry regiments (422, 424, and 426) were at an advanced level of training, and were fully equipped. The arrival of elements of 50th and 164th Divisions added another four infantry regiments to his force. Panzer Regiment 203 had been formed in January around a core of survivors of various units that had fought in the previous year, with new additions. It was equipped with a mixture of Panzer IIIs and Jagdpanzers. The surviving artillery regiments from XXX Corps had also arrived, further strengthening the power of the scratch force. The force took the name of Combat Group Sennelager. Groschupf had contacts in the Luftwaffe and had got agreement that there would be an effort to hit the British at Gütersloh, timed to coincide with the ground attack. Everyone told him that the chances of the Luftwaffe actually managing to show up and do anything was ridiculous and not to rely on it.
The German start line was Stuckenbrock. Two regiments from 50th Division would cut the roads to Bielefeld and act as the flank protection. The two regiments from 164th Division would force their way into Gütersloh and then protect that flank. With the Panzer Regiment as the main punch, 126th Division would curve around through Warendorf towards Münster. If Groschupf’s intelligence was correct, that would put his force between the British Second Army and French First Army, splitting the Entente forces. The opposition, according to his intelligence were elements of the British 1st Mechanised Corps, particularly 50th Division, which seemed to be the flank guard. The bad weather unfortunately had cleared, that left the German forces at the mercy of the RAF. Combat Group Sennelager had a fair amount of anti-aircraft weapons and the Luftwaffe had promised a strong fighter presence to protect the counterattack.
As planned, the attacks on Bielefeld and Gütersloh had gone well in the first hours. At Bielefled the German soldiers had been confronted by two companies of 6th Battalion Durham Light Infantry, and had pushed them back quickly. They had also surprised a number of rear echelon troops many of whom were captured. At Gütersloh, a similar situation had arisen with elements of 8th Battalion of the DLI. The panzers burst through the light cordon that was provided by the motorcycle troops of the 4th Battalion the Royal Northumberland Fusiliers, making good progress towards Harsewinkel. There were plenty of small fights along the way, but most of the roads were filled with British vehicles carrying supplies forward to support the First Armoured Division and 51st Division’s push towards Minden and the Weser.
General William Ramsden’s HQ started getting panic laden calls for help just after dawn. A picture of a German counterattack began to clarify itself on the map boards. The Division’s RAF liaison was already hard at work putting together a response. Ramsden tried to get some kind of order into the chaos that had overtaken his division. Most of his three Brigades were stretched out over a fairly large area, and while they were very mobile, being able to concentrate them against the Germans at a particular spot, was going to be problematic. He contacted Q Martel the Corps Commander and Jumbo Wilson the Army Commander to inform them of what was happening. Percy Hobart’s Armoured Division, supported by the 51st Division, were attempting to take Minden. Looking for any crossings they could find over the canal and river there. Martel realised that it would take too long for them to turn around to hit the Germans from the East. The fact that they cut off from their supplies, put them in danger of being stuck in place.
Wilson spoke to Harold Alexander, who’s V Corps were to the west of Münster. Wilson asked him to push as much as he could into the town, while keeping a solid link with the French to his south. Alexander had Roderic Petre’s 12th Division respond as quickly as he could to Wilson’s orders. The other army asset at Wilson’s disposal was 3rd Armoured Brigade. Like much of the army the three Royal Tank Regiments were spread out and doing maintenance on their Matilda II tanks. Once the order was received, 2nd and 3rd RTR began making best speed towards Münster, where they would join 12th Division. In the meantime, Ramsden did his best to muster the rest of his division ,ordering units in the path of the Germans to hold as best they could while other units would try to probe the German flanks.
14 April 1941. 10:00hrs. Graz. Austria.
General Hubert Schaller-Kalide, commander of Wehrkries (Defence District) XVIII had had to move his headquarters to Graz. Klagenfurt was in Italian hands now, as was Villach and Lienz. Further west, Innsbruck was still in German hands, demolition work in the Brenner Pass had slowed the Italians down considerably. His only plan, and it was working to some degree, was to trade land for time. A German unit would make a stand until it looked like the Italians were fully deployed and ready to make an assault, then they would pull back. The next German unit would do the same, leapfrogging across one another. This way, a large part of his force was still intact and, he hoped, frustrating the Italians. Frustrating them was the best he could hope for. Stopping them with the resources at his disposal was impossible.
Every time he contacted Berlin he seemed to speak to a different General, it wasn’t clear just who exactly was in charge. The indifference he got from them was unbelievable. “Don’t you know the Ruhr is cut off?” “Don’t you know the British are at Bremen?” The fact that the Italians were taking bits of Austria was neither here nor there to Berlin. The Anschluss didn’t seem to matter anymore. In his heart of hearts he really just wanted to surrender to the Italians and get the whole thing over and done with. It was obvious that the war was lost, and he was just throwing away the lives of his men. On the other hand, the Italians were meant to be allies. The Pact of Steel obviously meant nothing and Mussolini was just like a vulture picking at the carcass of Germany, taking advantage of the situation. He would probably have waited until the Germans were at the gates of Paris before joining the war against the French last May. Now he had turned his coat and had invaded the Reich. For that Schaller-Kalide couldn’t forgive him, and so wouldn’t just roll over and eat pasta.
14 April 1941. 12:00hrs. Harsewinkel. Germany.
Captain Tom Davies, Royal Army Service Corps, wasn’t really prepared for this, neither emotionally or professionally. His was a fairly ordered life, making sure the lorries delivered the right stuff to the right place at the right time. He had his Sterling submachine gun in his hands, and forty-six “odds and sods” trying to defend this road junction from the approaching German army. An army which by all accounts was meant to be defeated and on the run. Well, the men he could see were running right enough, but in his direction following a Panzer IV. A Platoon of Durham Light Infantry were somewhere off to his left in another part of the town. At least they seemed to know what to do. Davies was the senior British officer in place and the young DLI Second Lieutenant had deferred command of Harsewinkel to him. The men had thought the name of the town was a joke, with all sorts of ribald comments, but it certainly wasn’t funny anymore.
The team with the Boys Anti-tank rifle were in a pit that would hopefully give them a half decent chance at a shot at the tank’s side. The DLI had a Carl Gustav, but they were protecting one of the other roads into the town. The problem with using drivers and cooks and other non-infantry types was that they just weren’t trained well enough for this kind of thing. Glancing around at the faces of his small HQ team Davies could see that they were just as nervous as he was.
The Boys rifle spoke and everyone could hear the round bounce off the tank. So much for that. The sergeant commanding that “platoon” had the only Bren gun, as well as the Boys, and it opened up almost simultaneously, which was the signal for everyone to pour as much fire as possible into the approaching Germans, even from the Sterlings which were probably out of range.
Davies could see the grey-clad infantry going to ground. Maybe some were hit, maybe they were just taking cover. The turret of the panzer was swivelling when the second shot from the Boys hit it. Once again it just bounced off. The co-axial machine gun opened up, as did the one in the front of the hull. Fire from the Bren gun ceased suddenly. Davies hoped it was a stoppage, but it was probably much worse than that. Fire from the sergeant’s position, like that of the Bren died away.
The other main position kept up the level of rifle fire, but a second Panzer IV had appeared, an explosion marked its short 75mm gun’s arrival into the fight. Davies could see a few of the men break cover and run. They seemed to have left their rifles behind, so they probably weren’t trying to move to a secondary position. Captain Davies could feel the same urge in himself, to run and keep running.
There wasn’t much more the survivors could do. They had no response to the German tanks and they had done what they could. Behind him in the town the lorries were burning, as were most of the stores, especially the petrol. That was the one piece of advice the DLI platoon sergeant had insisted on, not to let it fall into enemy hands. Davies had balked at that, it was his responsibility, but he had to agree.
The Germans would take back this arse winkle, but he hoped it wasn’t worth it for them. He threw down the Sterling and ordered the men within earshot to do the same. Standing up with both hands in the air, hoping not to be shot, he surrendered his motley force to the Germans. The sound of gunfire continued from the other side of the town which suggested the DLI were still putting up a fight. But as his twenty-four surviving men were rounded up and marched off, those sounds died away too.
14 April 1941. 13:00hrs. Warendorf. Germany.
The Beaufighters arrived first. They were generally carrying cluster bombs and were looking for the main anti-aircraft sites. The Germans relied heavily on towed 20mm AAA and these were the subject of much of the Beaufighter’s work. Cluster munitions are indiscriminate and other elements of the German forward units were hit. By the time the twenty surviving Beaufighters left the area, leaving four of their comrades as funeral pyres, there was very little anti-aircraft fire left other than rifle calibre machineguns.
That was when the Hurribombers arrived. There were forty-eight of these, and the vast majority carried napalm. The majority of the German divisions which relied heavily of horses, when caught in the open, napalm caused horrific devastation. Infantry Regiment 424 of Combat Group Sennelager was mostly motorised, but nonetheless the napalm eviscerated the units that had the misfortune of being attacked by it. The Hurribombers then each used their four 20mm canons add to the destruction before returning to base to refuel and rearm.
The arrival of an army cooperation Lysander was hardly noticed by the Germans trying to sort themselves out after the two raids. On board the aircraft, the Royal Artillery observer was in contact with two field regiments of Royal Artillery equipped with 25-pdr guns. Concentrating on German units untouched by the RAF attack, further devastation was wrought on the German soldiers by the artillery.
As a fighting unit, Infantry Regiment 424 was no longer capable of fulfilling its role. The survivors were either too shocked by the devastation or too busy trying to help their wounded comrades. The commanding officer and his staff had been in some half-tracks which had disappeared in a napalm fireball. The commander of the battalion that had been least affected, now found himself as the senior surviving officer but found it very difficult to gain control of the units now technically under his command.
14 April 1941. 14:00hrs. Chungking, China.
Ernest Hemingway and his wife, Martha Gellhorn, had shared a lunch meeting with Chiang Kai-shek, the leader of the Chinese Nationalists. Hemingway and Martha were covering the Sino-Japanese War for the New York based PM newspaper, just as they had covered the Spanish Civil War. As he was writing down his notes in preparation for writing an account of the lunch, what struck him most forcibly was the upbeat mood of the Chinese leader. The war had never been going well for the Chinese, the Japanese army always seemed to have the upper hand. The Chinese Communists were sometimes a help, but more often than not a hindrance to stopping the invader.
Martha had asked the question if he believed that the Japanese could be defeated and China be once again united. His unequivocal yes in response was more than a politician putting a positive face on for the press. The obvious follow up question was why he was so positive. His answer was something that Hemingway was using to hang the article around.
The first part of Kai-shek’s optimism seemed to be an attempt to butter up his American visitors. There was a large and wealthy China lobby in the United States. President Dewey’s isolationist stance was generally applauded among large sections of the American population. There were also a significant number of people who saw the Japanese invasion of China and events such as the rape of Nanking as being a matter of the greatest concern. As the defeat of Nazism in Europe looked more and more likely, Japanese aggression and International Communism were the two great causes that gripped the American consciousness. FDR had got around the neutrality acts because the war in China had never officially been declared, that had allowed Kai-shek to be the recipient of American aid. While President Dewey made a great deal of noise about enforcing the law, he hadn’t stopped the aid which had been budgeted for during his predecessor’s tenure.
The China Lobby were hard at work trying to keep American dollars rolling in, both public and private money. Hemingway learned that Madame Chiang Kai-shek was planning an “awareness raising” tour of the USA later in the year. What Hemingway was able to read between the lines was that the money coming from America was being spent on increased and better military equipment. Certainly, from his last few visits to Chinese units he was seeing more and more ex-German rifles, machine guns, mortars, artillery and even tanks in evidence. Between the Burma Road and the railway from French Indo-China, large quantities of arms and ammunition were arriving for the Chinese Army.
The second part of Kai-shek’s positivity seemed to be coming from support from the French and British. Surplus aircraft, not fit for the war in Europe, but perfectly acceptable for a Chinese air force, were also arriving. The training of pilots was still an issue, though the American Colonel Chennault was working very hard to train up the Chinese pilots as well as he could. 40 SPAD 510 bi-planes and 90 Bloch 151s coming in very useful for this task, which was just as well because getting P40s from Curtiss Wright was no longer going to happen.
Kai-shek had managed to get an agreement with the British and French banks to support Bank of China loans that would allow the Chinese to buy French and British aircraft. Morane-Saulnier and Hawker had both been approached to provide aircraft for the Chinese Air Force. Most of Hawker’s factories were already tooling up to building the Typhoon that was due to replace the Hurricane and Hurribomber. Gloster’s factory was the only one continuing to build Hurricanes and Hurribombers and was due to continue doing so until 1942. These were now aimed at the foreign market and China’s order was likely to be a big one. Likewise, Morane-Saulnier had lost out to Dewoitine and Bloch for the main French AdA types. They had been given permission by the French government to produce their improved MS 540 for foreign sales. The Swiss and the Chinese were both interested in this aircraft for their air forces.
The third part of Kai-shek’s positive outlook seemed to come from the problems that the Chinese Communists seemed to be having. Japan and the Soviet Union seemed to attempting some kind of rapprochement, and one element of that was shown in a weakening of Soviet support for Mao’s forces. While Kai-shek’s foreign support was increasing his strength, the Communists were struggling. Once again reading between the lines, Hemingway guessed that there was some kind of purge going on within the Communist Party. This smelled a lot like someone was running a covert operation to weaken the Party. Who was responsible, and how it was financed, would probably never be known, but there had been some unexplained deaths and assassinations that various factions were blaming on one another.
As Hemingway put a sheet of paper into his typewriter and poured himself another drink, Martha sat down and went over with him her own impressions. Martha was keen to visit Chennault’s training camp, as it would make a good story for the paper. They already knew that Chennault’s request for American Air Corps pilots to be allowed to volunteer had been turned down in Washington. It was clear however that Chennault had some kind of cadre of pilots who were training the Chinese. Where this cadre came from and how they got here was going to be a very interesting, Hemingway also wondered how they were being paid. Turning back to the typewriter Hemingway started to type, trying to imagine how someone in New York would read it over their breakfast in a few days’ time.
14 April 1941. 16:00hrs. HMS Illustrious. South China Sea.
The crew of the “Lusty” were a strange mixture of seasoned Royal Navy men and trainees from the Royal Australian Navy. The Australians were being trained in all aspects of the running of an aircraft carrier, in preparation for the delivery of HMAS Melbourne. The first draft of trainees that had passed through HMS Illustrious were now in Barrow-in-Furness, working with the ship builders to prepare for the commissioning of the ship. This second draft were mostly concerned with flight operations, the first had been concentrated in the engineering department.
The threefold exercise that was currently going on was to get a strike package of the carrier’s aircraft into the air. For the aircraft to have a live ammunition practice. Then to recover them and do it all over again. To the commander of the air wing. it was like an intricate dance. First to be spotted on deck was a Sussex helicopter, with the role of attempting to rescue any downed aircrew. The CAP of four Sea-Hurricanes were already in the air as normal, these would need to be replaced last. A radar equipped Swordfish was on anti-submarine patrol, it too would be replaced in due course. The strike package consisted of twelve torpedo armed Swordfish; twelve Skuas outfitted for dive-bombing; and twelve Sea-Hurricanes as escort. To round out the strike package were two ASV equipped Fulmars, these were acting as command aircraft.
Because this was a live fire exercise, the ammunition handlers had been through a great many dry runs. The Petty Officers watched like hawks every move by the artificers to make sure that all possible safety precautions were followed to the letter. The same happened with the men responsible for the fuelling of the aircraft. The movement of the aircraft from the hanger to the deck, in fact every element of the process, was checked and double checked. All of this meant that the timing was much slower than desired, and the timetable began to drift. Eventually, with the pilots of the CAP beginning to fear for their fuel state, 38 aircraft were launched, one Skua ditching on take-off, the unlucky crew were picked out of the water by the Sussex helicopter.
Three old merchant ships had been stripped out, their hulks would be the targets for the live fire exercise. The sinking of all three proved most satisfactory, though it had taken all the torpedoes and 500lb bombs of the air group. Proving that hitting sitting targets wasn’t quite as straightforward for all the pilots. The Squadron Leaders took note of which of their pilots would have extra drills to improve their aim. The Sea-Hurricanes were put through their paces with the arrival of two flights of land-based Mustangs from 243 Squadron. The fact that the RAF had actually found them was something of a surprise to the Fleet Air Arm pilots. The RAF did have help from a Sunderland which guided them to the target area. The skills of the seasoned FAA pilots were generally of a higher standard than the RAF pilots, though the Mustang easily outperformed the Sea-Hurricanes. The Sea-Hurricanes managed to prevent most of the Mustangs breaking through onto the torpedo and dive bombers. Theoretically the FAA had won the exercise, though it would have been a pyrrhic victory if it had been done for real.
On returning to the carrier, a Sea-Hurricane made a mess of its landing and the aircraft and pilot were both lost over-board. The dance began again, to land the aircraft, and then move them around as if to prepare them for a second strike. As darkness was approaching, the decision had been made not to go ahead with that part of the exercise. The earlier delays would mean the aircraft would be returning to land in darkness after the second strike. There were already enough lessons to be learned. Each of the teams would be going over and over what would need to be improved to make getting a strike package into the air, landed and turned around for a second strike quicker. Overall, the senior officers were pleased enough with the progress that the newer men had made since they had arrived on board. They had little doubt that another month or two of intensive training would have them ready to ship over to HMAS Melbourne when she was ready to sail.
14 April 1941. 17:00hrs. Minden. Germany.
General Percy Hobart was in two minds. 51st Division’s 153rd Brigade, supported by tanks of The Queen’s Bays, had successfully completed their objectives. They not only had control of most of Minden, but also an intact crossing of the Mittellandkanal. This allowed a reconnaissance force to move north and make a link up with Montgomery’s 3rd Army. A likely looking spot where a crossing of the Weser could be done had also been found. On the other hand, the Germans had cut his supply routes and General Q Martel, his Corps commander, wanted his tanks to go back towards Munster and reopen those supply lines.
10th Royal Hussars in their cruiser A13mkIVs, and 1st Battalion Rifle Brigade, had been 1st Armoured Division’s reserve for the attack on Minden. When news of the German counterattack to the Division’s rear had arrived, they were put on alert to go back down the road they had travelled, to sort out the German attack. Likewise, 154th Brigade (1st Battalion Black Watch, 7th, 8th Bn Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders) of 51st Highland Division, also in reserve, got a similar order. They were well equipped for the mobile battle, and together with the Hussars, it was a powerful battlegroup.
Hobart argued that the chance to jump the Weser was too important to be relegated to “policing supply lines”. He noted that the Corps had enough petrol and ammunition to make the attack, and press on into the heart of Germany. General Brooke’s order was to halt on the Weser. This would let the three British Armies sort themselves out, before a general assault across the river. Martel was insistent with Hobart to get the Hussars and Rifle Brigade on the road to support 154th Brigade. With 12th Division concentrating in Münster, there was a real chance to encircle a large German force. Hobart made his feelings known but acquiesced to the order.
By the time the officers got the order and sorted out the line of march and timetable it became clear that the main attack would only really be able to be done at dawn the next day. 154th Brigade concentrated in Herford and would push on towards Bielefeld. Hobart’s men would circle further south to Bad Salzuflen, then Detmold. Cutting across the German training area, they would cut the counterattack off at its base of operations. A second battlegroup of 9th Queen's Royal Lancers with 2nd Battalion Royal Rifle Corps would continue southwards from Detmold and continue on to Paderborn. This should have been a French objective, but the 1re and 7e French armies were still dealing with closing the Ruhr pocket.
14 April 1941. 19:00hrs. Telgte. Germany.
The scout platoon of Panzer Regiment 203 had been probing along the various routes, looking for the path of least resistance, to bring the panzers and infantry as far as possible into the British lines of communications. As a rule, they tended to avoid getting into fights themselves, though shooting up enemy trucks and stragglers was normal practise. They had lost a Sd. Kfz. 232 armoured car in an ambush. The four man crewed were killed as they fled the burning vehicle. That British unit had paid the ultimate price for that piece of work. One of the Panzer IIs had to be abandoned after it developed mechanical problems. The river Emse had generally covered their right flank, but here at Telgte there was a bridge that the British had constructed, replacing that which had been blown up during the retreat.
The Captain in charge of the scout platoon watched through his binoculars as British troops were obviously preparing to defend the town and its bridge. As far as he could judge there was at least two companies of infantry, but there was also at least a battery of anti-aircraft guns, Bofors 40mm guns, which looked as if they were preparing for a dual role of defending the town from aerial or ground attack. As he watched he noticed something well camouflaged, it took him a few minutes to work out what it was. On further examination, now he had a notion of what to look for, he saw another five or six. The British had tanks here. At a guess they were probably Matilda IIs. He crawled back down the hill and got onto the radio to report what he had seen. It looked as if the British had got their act together.
The Commander of the Panzer Regiment took the report and consulted the map. There was an alternative southern route that would take them from Everswinkle towards Wolbeck. But if British panzers were appearing at Telgte, then it could be that they would be appearing elsewhere. Whatever road he took there would be a fight. Moving westwards towards Münster there was always going to be the problem of crossing the Dortmund-Ems Kanal. If he could get across the Emse here and head north, that would continue to impact the British supply lines. Consulting with General Groschupf, they agreed that during the night they would prepare to attack Telgte and get across the river Emse, then continue northwards.
It would take the rest of the evening and night to get the infantry up in large enough numbers to support the panzer attack at dawn. The scout platoon commander was ordered to get as much information as possible about the British dispositions to assist in planning the attack.
14 April 1941. 20:00hrs. Münster. Germany.
General Petre arrived at British HQ in Münster. He was proud of 12th Division’s staff. They had managed to get two of the three Brigades, which had been on occupation duties and resting. They were now fully equipped in their new positions along the Dortmund-Ems Canal. 35th and 36th Brigades had moved north and south of Münster respectively. In Münster itself 25th Brigade of 50th Division had been concentrating, ready to work with the arriving 3rd RTR, to push back against the German attack. General Jumbo Wilson, commander of British 2nd Army was confident that the plan to bag the German troops was coming together.
General Prételat had been informed of the German attack, and had given warning to the French armies to be prepared to support the British if necessary. It was becoming clear that the German attack was limited in scope, more of a nuisance that a major threat. The opportunity to take another three German divisions off their order of battle was welcome. Looking over the maps at the Entente’s progress for the last twenty-four hours was encouraging.
Other than this counter attack, most German resistance up to the Weser was limited. The fighting around the river Main was continuing, That was a grinding effort, but General Sivot was convinced that his men would prevail shortly, opening up a drive southwards into Bavaria. Negotiations with the German commander of the Ruhr pocket were looking like they would produce a surrender, which would make a huge difference to the French First Army Group.
German radio had made no reference to the British attempt to kill Hitler in East Prussia, but German radio wasn’t what it used to be. The best intelligence estimates were that the Nazi apparatus were withdrawing to the East and letting the rest of the Germans to get on with it. This of course was being relayed continually by British and French radio in their German programs. Hoping that the “abandonment” of the German people by their so-called leadership would cause an even quicker collapse. It seemed that the commander in the Ruhr looked as if he was being persuaded of this.
The situation from the point of view of supplies was also looking quite satisfactory. There had been a briefing which had noted while expenditure of stocks of ammunition continued to be high, the factories in Britain and France, and increasingly in Belgium, were keeping pace. Petrol, oil and lubricants were also available in good quantities. As General Brooke had noted, the problem of supply was getting enough forward to the front line over ground that had been fought over. Bridging equipment was one of the crucial factors, especially in the Netherlands. The repair of the railroads and their bridges was amongst the highest of priorities. Civilian rail companies from Britain and France had been asked to provide their expertise and spare stock to put the European rail network back together.
Since May last year the numbers of Entente casualties was running at nearly 400000, about one third of that number dead and the rest wounded or missing. The infantry soldiers as usual took the highest losses, the pilots and aircrew of the air forces likewise had suffered heavily. Estimated German casualties were somewhere nearer three times that number, with a larger proportion of these as captured. The number of German civilian deaths wasn’t entirely clear, but certainly higher than French and British equivalents. The Dutch and Belgian civilian losses were worse as they had been fought over twice. It wasn’t the Great War in terms of losses, but it was bad enough. There was still a good bit of fighting to be done, though why the Germans didn’t just give up when they were so obviously defeated already was a mystery.