Authors: John Sadler
Operation Mercury (20 page)
The gallant
Fiji
fought a heroic but doomed fight; by 8.15 p.m. she turned turtle and went down. At least the two destroyers were on hand to pick up survivors as the sheltering darkness once again enfolded the battered ships. Cunningham's last and freshest reserve was Mountbatten's 5th Destroyer Flotilla. This he committed to a further sweep of the north coast via the Kithera Channel. Due to an error in the signals which confused the words âempty' and âplenty' â a significant confusion when reporting upon the capital ships' supplies of ammunition â Cunningham had decided not to commit his ships to a further night's action.
This now left the five K class destroyers of Mountbatten's squadron exposed in their westward dash to the Channel. Sleek and very fast, these nimble vessels confounded the dawn chorus of dive bombers but, as the morning wore on, the attacks intensified.
Kashmir
was the first to succumb, soon followed by the flagship
Kelly
which continued her mad 30-knot dash even in her death throes. Had not one of the surviving vessels turned back to pick them up then all aboard would likely have been lost. Despite the fury of the onslaught unleashed against her,
Kipling
was successful in rescuing survivors and in returning, amazingly unscathed, though out of fuel, to Alexandria.
In the course of the sea and air battle the Navy had prevented the German convoys reaching the battle zone. Admiral Cunningham had been true to his promise, but the cost to the Navy in men and ships had been fearful. The survivors, limping into Alexandria, were in a frightful state. The Admiral thus intimated to London that further naval operations would be too costly to contemplate:
I am afraid that in the coastal area we have to admit defeat and accept the fact that losses are too great to justify us in trying to prevent seaborne attacks on Crete. This is a melancholy conclusion but it must be faced.
9
By way of reply the chiefs of staff (or more likely the Prime Minister) remained obdurate, stressing the need for operational sorties to be made, in daylight if necessary, in support of the land battle, regardless of the scale of loss that would, as it surely must, result.
Cunningham was brutally direct in his riposte:
It is not the fear of sustaining losses which will cripple the fleet without any commensurate advantage which is the determining factor in operating in the Aegean ⦠The experience of three days in which two cruisers and four destroyers have been sunk, and one battleship, two cruisers and four destroyers severely damaged shows what losses are likely to be. Sea control in the Eastern Mediterranean could not be retained after another such experience.
10
In the first major trial of strength between a conventional battle fleet and a determined air force, the destructive capacity of the planes had been clearly demonstrated. Victory had gone to the Luftwaffe though the Navy had made good its promise to thwart any seaborne reinforcement. The question would now have to be resolved by the troops of both sides so hotly engaged on the ground.
Bombed from the Earth â the Turning Point
I should have realised that some of my Commanders, men from World War One, were too old ⦠to stand up to the strain of an all-out battle of the nature that eventually developed around Maleme Airfield ⦠I should have replaced that old age group with younger men who ⦠stood up much better to the physical and mental strain of a long and bitter series of battles.
1
In the illusory baroque splendour of the Hotel Grand Bretagne, General Kurt Student was a very worried man. He had just cause. Though early reports, during the morning and early afternoon of 20 May, had provided an optimistic picture, more detailed assessments, coming in through the evening, painted an altogether different picture. The operation appeared, at this stage, a total shambles â a much more numerous and better prepared enemy, catastrophic losses and nothing, particularly not a single airstrip, to show for it all.
That evening the General's staff were joined by both Lohr and Ringel, neither of whom was overly well disposed toward Student. If the affair did turn into a fiasco there need be no question of where the full weight of the blame should land. Casualties had been heaviest amongst the officers; those troops who remained on the ground were scattered and, in many cases, leaderless.
An early hope that the strength of the reception at Maleme implied Rethymnon and Heraklion were only lightly held, had been dashed. Student knew that most of his officer colleagues could be counted as enemies. These would not hesitate to withdraw the battered survivors if the tactical situation did not improve dramatically and soon.
Lohr, like most senior officers in May 1941, was driven by the need to conform to the demands of Barbarossa. Ringel could scarcely be expected to willingly hazard his division in an operation which appeared to have already consumed most of 7th Airborne without establishing a viable bridgehead.
A lesser man than Student might have suffered a loss of nerve but he was prepared to cling to the vestige of hope that the situation at Maleme appeared to offer. At this point the airstrip was not taken but the fact the attackers had even the flimsiest of toeholds, justified the commitment the remaining few companies held in reserve:
At no point [Student observed later] did we succeed completely in occupying an airfield. The greatest degree of progress was achieved on Maleme airfield, where the valuable assault Regiment fought against picked New Zealand troops. The night of May 20th/21st was critical for the German Command. I had to make a momentous decision. I decided to use the mass of the parachute reserves, still at my disposal for the final capture of Maleme airfield.
2
Having faced down his opponents, at least for the moment, the General retired. He was under no illusions, nor did he sleep but stayed awake all night to await further news; his pistol on the bedside table. He had no doubt as to the course expected of him should the final failure of the attack have to be conceded; failure in the Third Reich was not permitted.
The General might indeed have been tempted to reach for his Luger had he been aware that the operational order for 3 Parachute Regiment was in Freyberg's hands. This document, besides the detail on individual unit targets, made it quite clear that the Germans were very considerably at risk from a single, concerted counter-attack.
3
Crucially, as this vital intelligence was being digested, 5 Brigade's battalion commanders had convened a hasty conference at which Colonel Leckie was presiding. No decisions were taken other than to consolidate, despite the fact that they knew the enemy to have suffered serious loss whilst their own had been considerably less. Brigadier Hargest seemed no more aggressively inclined.
When the utterly exhausted Andrew arrived at his HQ, by Bren carrier at 5.00 a.m. on the 21st, Hargest merely advised that the 22nd Battalion must stay in the line but he made no comment on the need for counter-attack. When Andrew, with the Brigade Major, Captain Dawson, returned to his men, their joint orders went no further than âdiscussing' new defensive arrangements.
The clock that would finally decide the fate of Crete and its garrison was already ticking and it is likely that Freyberg was correct in his retrospective analysis. The men leading 5 Brigade were brave and competent. Their failing was not dereliction of duty but one of comprehension. They did not understand the true nature of the battle that was being fought.
Student possessed one inestimable asset â he was in radio contact with the survivors at Maleme. He had little more than 500 fresh troops in hand. To gain a clearer view of the situation at Maleme he detailed Captain Kleye from his staff to embark on a personal reconnaissance. Kleye was an excellent choice:
⦠a bold go-getting character on my staff and told him to take a Ju52 and land at Maleme in order to get a personal feeling of how things were going with the Storm Regiment ⦠he managed to land on the airfield and also to get off again although fired at by the enemy. In this way he was able to bring back the important information that the western edge of the airstrip lay in dead ground.
4
His aircraft touched down on the airstrip at Maleme around 7.00 a.m. on 21st and, despite intense ground fire, successfully unloaded its much appreciated load of ammunition. At virtually the same time a Lieutenant Koenitz, acting on his own initiative, managed to land another transport on the beach at the mouth of the Tavronitis. He too carried more precious munitions; many of the survivors were down almost to their final rounds.
Amongst the wounded Koenitz was able to evacuate, was Meindl himself, now delirious from his wounds. Thereafter reinforcements from the reserves began to arrive. Kleye returned to report that the day was by no means lost and that an opportunity existed to secure the airstrip. Despite the withdrawal of Andrew's companies the German assault on Hill 107 was not unopposed, indeed the Germans reported some heavy fighting, indicating they'd run into Cretan partisans and stragglers from 22nd Battalion.
Student's revised plan was that the remnants of the Assault Regiment, once their grip on Hill 107 was assured, should push along the coast toward Pirgos. Colonel Bernhard Ramcke would lead the fresh drop which would straddle the airfield east and west. The advance was slow and halting, the paratroopers still shaken by their rough reception the day before, calling down the Stukas whenever they caught a whiff of opposition.
By mid afternoon, however, they had successfully occupied both Maleme and Pirgos. The airstrip, though not yet beyond the range of the defenders' guns, was in their hands. The tide had begun to flow and, once turned, would be impossible to halt.
The New Zealand officers, other than sniping and some long range firing, did nothing to check this advance; rather they concentrated on consolidating a linear defence with the remnants of 22nd Battalion re-deployed in the gap between the other two. As the German patrols began to probe the line, and air attacks intensified, the defenders braced themselves and, as the Germans then attacked, opened a withering fire which accounted for as many as 200 of the paratroops.
Major Wenning was, once again, back in the air and directing the drop:
As we reach the coast and turn towards the dropping-zone we can see the fighting below. Everywhere in the area we see yesterday's parachutes like countless points of light below. During the drop my âplane suffers two mishaps. One parachutist, just preparing to jump, is badly wounded by a shot from the ground but he jumps anyway. And the last man to go baulks; he does not want to jump. We have already passed over the ground where we have put down his unit but he must jump and now he is ready to do so. So we repeat the manoeuvre while the other planes turn for home. And we fly out to sea, turn towards the coast, dropping to 150 metres off the ground. All the fire of the defence is now concentrated on our plane but despite this we succeed in reaching our position. The man jumps and now we turn and head at full speed toward the open sea. Flak riddles our plane but causes no serious damage.
5
Barely had the sound of firing died away than the eastern prong of Ramcke's assault began its jump. In the mistaken belief that the New Zealand line ran through Pirgos and Maleme, these men, under Lieutenant Nagele, were dropped west of Platanias in an attempt to encircle the Allied survivors. Instead the parachutists experienced a repeat of the previous day's fighting, falling directly onto the bayonets of the defenders.
The Maoris leapt to their feet and, with their terrifying war cries, fell upon the invaders, most of whom were swiftly accounted for. Nagele managed to round up eighty or so survivors and barricade some farm buildings. Churchill would have thoroughly approved and this type of fighting did indeed suit the New Zealanders, âdown to the ground'. As the Germans were descending, HQ platoon:
â¦formed up with two sections forward and advanced unopposed, a brisk exchange of grenades and small-arms fire resulted in ten dead Germans on the road and others in the scrub with no loss to the makeshift platoon .. and then back to Battalion Headquarters passing en route a number of dead paratroopers in front of C Company lines. Ngatipourou had made the most of such opportunities as had come their way.
6
Captain Anderson reported that:
At one stage I stopped for a minute or two to see how things were going and a Hun dropped not ten feet away. I had my pistol in my hand and without really knowing what I was doing I let him have it while he was still on the ground. I had hardly got over the shock when another came down almost on top of me and I plugged him too while he was untangling himself. Not cricket I know, but there it is.
7
The Maoris also attended to numbers of Ju52s landing on the stony shale of the beach, their Bren guns doing fearful damage, blowing great chunks from the thin fuselages and shredding the packed troops within, few of whom survived long enough to return fire. Those who made it clear immediately became casualties or prisoners. The fighting was brief but murderous:
⦠One at about 15 yards, instead of firing his Tommy gun started to lie down to fire. I took a snap shot with a German Mauser. It grazed his behind and missed between his legs. My back hair lifted but the Maori got him (I had no bayonet). We rushed on ⦠some tried to crawl away ⦠a giant of a man jumped up with his hands up like a gorilla and shouting âHants oop'. I said âshoot the bastard' and the Maori shot him. That was because many others were firing at us and a Spandau from further off. Suddenly bullets spluttered all around my feet ⦠.
8
Unaware of this fresh disaster Ramcke, with the western contingent, had dropped, for the most part safely west of the Tavronitis. A less fortunate section, perhaps forty in all, were carried out over the sea and drowned. The airfield was still being shelled by British gunners firing the old Italian 75; Les Young of the 21st watched the gunners in action:
Our artillery must have been given a target because they started firing over open sights in the direction of the âdrome from where clouds of black smoke soon started to rise. At about 1600 hours a number of troop carriers crash-landed on the beach in positions not far from 21 Battalion. It was a clear case of the enemy being willing to sacrifice any number of planes to gain a foothold on the island. Lieutenant Rose, my platoon commander, and I, watched these planes crash-land and immediately afterwards burst into flames. I was never able to find out whether these planes were destroyed by the enemy or whether some mortars from another unit were doing some very accurate shooting.
9
Student had rushed in a battalion of the 100 Mountain Rifle Regiment. If the boys from the Alpine pastures did not relish travelling by air then their reception fully justified these fears. The strip was stitched by fire and the lumbering transports suffered badly. Casualties were heavy, some planes preferred a rough landing on the beach but troops were being got in. The toehold had become, however precarious, a bridgehead. Despite their understandable wariness, the German report credits the air force for delivering Ringel's alpinists with considerable élan:
The landing was carried out with the greatest dash and determination by Ju formations of Battle Squadron (Special Duties) 3, in spite of enemy artillery fire and to begin with, also machine-gun fire. A number of Jus were shot to pieces or burnt out on the beach and on the airfield. Extensive losses of mountain riflemen were avoided through the presence of mind of the pilots.
10
For Student, still immured in his Athens hotel, there was little cause for increased optimism. The massacre of Nagele's men showed that the New Zealanders were well entrenched and in good numbers. He had to believe the Allies would now launch a counter stroke with every man they could muster and throw the invaders back into the sea. His own men of the Assault Regiment were utterly exhausted and those from the Mountain Division were still being shot up as they tried to land. Surely it was now only a question of when the blow would fall?
That night the Germans, watching anxiously from their positions, were treated to the sight and sounds of their amphibious reinforcement being shot up by the Royal Navy:
What we saw from [Great Castle Hill] was like a great fireworks display. Rockets and flares were shooting into the night sky, searchlights probed the darkness, and the red glow of a fire was spreading across the entire horizon. The muffled thunder of distant detonations lent sound to this dismal sight. For about twenty minutes we watched, until suddenly the fireworks ceased ⦠very depressed we returned to our Headquarters.
11
If the attackers were downcast, the reaction at Creforce HQ was close to jubilation â this dazzling display of maritime pyrotechnics clearly heralded the demise of the seaborne threat the Navy had delivered. Freyberg turned to Brigadier Stewart and confided âWell Jock, it has been a great responsibility'.
12
By this he appears to have indicated he thought the battle won. The obsession with the naval landings, which the misleading ULTRA intelligence had sparked, now seemed lifted. All that remained was to launch a vigorous counter-attack and recover Maleme. If, however, Freyberg believed the battle to be all but won, he was seriously mistaken. The fact that the Germans had been able to exert their grip on the airstrip at Maleme and begin, even shakily, to fly in reinforcements, meant that the crisis of the battle was only now at hand. If they could not be dislodged, then the night's action at sea and the sufferings of Cunningham's ships the following day, were purely anecdotal. The pivotal struggle was that for the control of the airfield. Quite simply, whoever held Maleme would hold Crete.