“A message of support, promising reinforcements? And they’re sending Illustrious to Gibraltar?”
“Perhaps somebody has injected some backbone into Lord Halifax?” Major-General Noel Beresford-Peirse, commander of the 4th Indian Infantry Division, sounded doubtful of the possibility. Wavell couldn’t blame him; whatever sentiment and tradition might say, political facts had placed the Indian Government in opposition to London. Beresford-Peirse looked to Calcutta for his orders now. The same disbelief was evidenced by Lieutenant-General Thomas Blamey; he had surrendered command of the Australian 6th Division to take command of the new ANZAC Corps that was forming in Egypt. His response to the idea was a disdainful snort.
“What exactly does the telegram say?” Freyberg was being cautious. The first echelon of the 2nd New Zealand Infantry Division was already in place and would join the Australian 6th and 7th divisions in the ANZAC Corps when that formation was activated. His caution stemmed from the briefing he had received from the New Zealand Government. Essentially, the country was bankrupt; only minimal support for his division could be provided. It had been discretely suggested that he ought to seek local sources for supply. The result of that suggestion had the nascent 2nd New Zealand Division nicknamed ‘Freyberg’s 40,000 thieves’.
“It states that London enthusiastically supports the idea of offensive action against the Italian forces under General Graziani and will support any such actions to the best of its ability.” Wavell looked over the telegram, shaking his head in disbelief. “It goes on to say that London’s position will be guided by my decisions here as the commander on the spot. It approves our dispositions of the Mediterranean fleet and informs me that the squadron in Gibraltar, currently consisting of battleship Malaya, cruisers Gloucester and Liverpool and the H-class destroyer flotilla, will be reinforced by the addition of the aircraft carrier Illustrious and four K-class destroyers. We are advised that the Gibraltar Squadron is now designated Force H.”
“This is something of a relief.” General Sir Richard Nugent O’Connor and his 7th Armoured Division had been orphaned by the Armistice and the subsequent break-up of the Empire. He had kept quiet, allowing the political and strategic situation to mature, and it now looked as if his prudence was paying off. “But it appears to me that the telegram is long on encouragement and short on actual deeds.”
“There is an option that may clarify the situation a little further.”
General Henry ‘Jumbo’ Maitland Wilson had a strange grin on his face.
“General Graziani is slowly and painfully building up his supplies in front of Mersa Matruh for the next stage of his advance. The dumps behind his positions are already large and grow a little every day.”
“Mmmm, supplies.” Freyburg’s interjection caused a ripple of sympathetic laughter around the briefing room. More than one of the Generals present made an ostentatious gesture of protecting their wallets.
“Exactly.” Wilson nodded. “Graziani has a lot of troops deployed forward, but they are almost all infantry with few heavy or support weapons. Such units matter little in desert warfare. The only Italian force that is of any account is a single motorized group with some 70 armored vehicles, mostly machine gun carriers. In contrast, we have the 7th Armoured Division, the 6th Australian Division and the 4th Indian Division all of which are fully motorized. It’s a strange thing; for all the apparent disparity in forces, in the troops that actually matter, we seriously outnumber the Italians. I propose that we launch a raid on the Italian positions, destroy that motorized group and seize those supplies. At the very least, we will set all of Graziani’s plans and operations back months while he rebuilds his supply base. At best, we could put all those infantry sitting in the desert into the bag.
“If it’s a matter of pillaging, we ought to bring Bernie and his marauders along.” Blamey grumbled in the background. He had been moved upwards just in time to miss the action.
“I think so.” Wavell looked at the map for a second. “Jumbo, you are right; we can do this. You can’t have 4th Indian, though. I need them to join 5th for an assault southwards out of the Sudan. We’ll hit the Italian positions in East Africa from the north at the same time as the South Africans move up northwards out of Kenya. Jumbo, you can have 7th Armoured and 6th Australian, plus Bernie’s New Zealanders. Your primary objectives are those supply dumps; capture them pretty much at all costs. But don’t neglect any opportunities to develop the situation further to our advantage. Nothing wins a battle more conclusively than a vigorous pursuit.”
There was a stunned silence as the extent of the planned offensive sank home. Wavell was attempting to wrap the whole situation up with two simultaneous offensives. Maxims about not dividing one’s forces in the face of the enemy weighed heavily on the Generals’ minds.
“If I may make an addition to this plan?” Admiral Cunningham had been quiet during the strategy meeting but he could see a glowing opportunity developing. “If Jumbo and Dick are as successful as we hope, the Italians will have to run a massive supply convoy through to their ports in Africa to restore the situation. This offers us a good opportunity to being the Italian fleet to battle and give it a proper trousering.”
“One battleship, against six?” Wavell couldn’t help asking.
“There won’t be six; not with this new Force H in the Western Mediterranean. They’ll have to hold back a lot of their fleet to face that. We’ll face three battleships at most; the rest of the Italian fleet will be split as well. We have naval aircraft; they don’t. We can hurt them badly enough to swing the balance of power our way for months, if not years.”
Wilson looked at the map. “This is certainly ambitious. If we pull it off, we’ll have eliminated the threat in East Africa, driven the Italians out of Egypt, sent the Italian fleet back to harbor and probably chewed up their air force. We’re biting off a major mouthful here, gentlemen. I hope we won’t choke on it.”
Wavell nodded in agreement. “We’re risking everything on one roll of the dice. London is behind us now; why, and for how long, we can only guess. But we must assume that if we have a partial success, enough to save face, we’ll get a cease and desist order from London while they sign another Armistice. We have to clear the board in one go.”
Wavell looked around the room and noted the unanimous nodding. The game was on.
“Two student, please; front stalls.” David Newton put two shillings down on the ticket booth counter.
“David, being so close to the screen hurts my eyes. Could we go in the rear stalls please?” Rachael glanced around and saw the cinema staff hiding their smiles. The front stalls were easily visible; the rear stalls, underneath the balcony, were in the dark, even by cinema standards. That was why they were the traditional place for couples to indulge in discrete courting.
“Of course, Rachael.” Newton added another sixpence to the price of the tickets and picked them up as the cashier took them out of her drawer. “Would you like some snacks? I thought we’d have some fish and chips later. That should be OK for you, shouldn’t it?”
Rachael nodded. Fish and chips were unrationed, but very expensive. “Cod and six-penn’oth of chips will be lovely. Until then, could I have some Mint Imperials?”
Newton bought a packet of Mint Imperials and a bag of Pontefract Cakes for himself, then escorted Rachael into the theater. By the time they had taken their seats, the lights were already dimming and the Pathescope News was starting.