Dawes saluted and was on his way. His wound was not bad, a mere scratch from a grazing bullet, but it would not be the last he would receive in the next 72 hours as the British Garrison dug in its heels and began to fight for its life, and the life of Britain’s position in the Western Mediterranean. On that day, September 16, 1940, Spain made a formal announcement that they had joined Italy, and Vichy France as a member of the European Axis powers.
High on the hills of the upper Rock, a troop of jittery Barbary Macaque monkeys chattered restlessly. The German bombers had frightened them badly the previous night and, sensing imminent danger, they deftly skittered down the craggy slopes and over the Devil’s Tower Road towards the shore. No man on the airfield watch saw them go, nor any man of the 2nd Battalion, King’s Rifles on the frontier line. Somehow they slipped through the minefields and wire unnoticed, scrabbling along the rocky shores of Mala Bahia and leaving the high, bomb scarred limestone cliffs of Gibraltar behind. With them they carried away the legend that as long as these troops of monkeys held forth on the Rock, the territory would remain under British rule. No man in the garrison knew it just then, but the Barbary Macaques were leaving.
Chapter 33
Captain Christopher Wells was on the bridge of Glorious, and well on his way to the Azores, having been hastily summoned to this new post by Admiral Tovey. There he was to meet with HMS Furious and a small convoy, escorted by two cruisers and twelve destroyers. His own task force would provide air cover for the newly planned and renamed Operation Alloy, and his heavy escort in the battleship Valiant with four more destroyers would provide any needed naval muscle for the landing.
“Look out Captain,” said Lieutenant Woodfield. “This signal has just come in from Gibraltar. It looks like the Germans are going to have a go at the Rock!”
Wells took the message, eyeing it darkly as he learned the air strikes had begun and German troops were reportedly massing on the Spanish Frontier just north of the territory at that moment. Here he was heading west to the Azores, with his first outing as nominal task force commander, and looking fitfully over his shoulder and wishing he had his ship back with Force H for the real fight that was brewing up.
“Damn,” he swore. “We slip out the back door just as Jerry comes knocking. I’ve half a mind to get back there and give them what for.”
“Don’t go getting a big head, Welly,” said Woodfield. “Leave that row to Somerville and Force H.”
“But he hasn’t any real air cover now,” said Wells. “ Hermes can throw up a few fighters, but something tells be the Germans will becoming full on. I’ve a bad feeling about this.”
“Right,” said Woodfield. “Why do you think we’re out here anyway? If we lose Gibraltar we’ll need anchorages down this way, and the Azores are a good place to start. We ought to go ahead and take Madiera and the Canary Islands as well, before the Germans get ideas about them.”
“We may indeed,” said Wells. He had received a secret briefing on the operation he was now providing cover for. Two ocean liners, SS Karanja, and the Polish Merchant liner Sobieski, were packed with the 1st and 5th Royal Marine Battalions and the 8th Battalion of the Argyll amp; Sutherland Highlanders. They had been held in readiness in British Ports and reinforced at the last minute by 2 Commando, with the whole contingent code named “Paradox Force.” Commanded by Brigadier General Morford, their mission was to seize Fayal Island and Porto Del Gada Harbor, as well as San Miguel Harbor at Horta. The Commandos would land and occupy Terceira as a suitable place to begin building an airfield.
“Three battalions to grab these islands,” said Wells. “They might do a world better if they were on their way to Gibraltar now. The garrison there is fairly light.”
“No since throwing good money after bad,” said Woodfield. “Pardon that remark, but if the Germans come in great strength, as I believe they will, then it’s only a matter of time for our boys on the Rock. Better we get something in return, so buck up, Captain. You’ve been in on all our offensive operations thus far, and this time I think we’ll pull things off without a hitch.”
“Yes? Well it’s not a real fight. We won’t find anything there but the local militia or island police. At least at Dakar we were ready to have a go at the French, until those bloody battleships showed up. Something tells me we have a long way to go before we can really get in the ring with the Germans again.”
“Tell that to the Black Watch tonight,” Woodfield admonished, and Wells gave him a nod, his thoughts with the troops back on the Rock now, knowing what they would likely be facing in the days ahead. He also knew that Force H would have put to sea immediately, and there would be no way off the peninsula for any man in the garrison.
The Germans were bringing the equivalent of a full division to the assault, composed of tough, veteran troops, while two more motorized divisions watched their back and flank along the Portuguese border. The planners gave far too much credit to their adversary that day in accounting for a possible British landing on the Portuguese coast. The Royal Navy and Army were still fiddling about with a far less ambitious plan to take small Atlantic island outposts instead, and barely managing to scrape up the troops and transport shipping necessary for those modest operations. A larger landing in Portugal was out of the question.
High on the North Face of the Rock, up past King’s Lines and Pidsley’s Advance, there was a hidden observation post with a long view slit cut into the limestone. It had a spectacular view of the whole airfield, and the men inside soon heard the boom and thunder of artillery fire, and saw the first rounds kick up dust and clumps of earth on the field. The initial barrage lasted twenty minutes, ending with rounds of smoke fired by German Nebelwerfer batteries that enshrouded the whole scene.
Down in one of the forward pill boxes, the troops heard what sounded like the rumble and rattle of armor. “Tanks!” came the warning shout, and a few old 2 pounder guns began to fire. Soon there came the booming sound of explosions, which heartened the troops when they thought their defensive fire had scored hits. As the smoke thinned, however, they gaped at the scene, seeing what looked like squadrons of miniature tanks grinding their way forward into the minefields and wire, and then blowing up, one after another.
“What in blazes?” One man said as he stared at the diminutive tanks, no more than five feet long and just under two feet high. The Germans called them the Leichter Ladungstrager, or ‘light charge carrier,’ with a 60kg demolition charge that was designed to be deliberately detonated to clear mines, barbed wire, blow bridges or blast pill boxes and buildings. Designated the Goliath, the German troops called them “Beetle Tanks,” and they were crawling in great numbers over the mined area, blowing themselves to smithereens.
Behind them came the German assault engineers, all experts at clearing mine fields, and two full battalions in strength. They would soon be followed by the hardened troops of the 98th Regiment, 1st Mountain Division, the Edelweiss Division that would have conquered Europe’s tallest peak at Mount Elbrus in the history Fedorov knew. They were advancing towards the area known as ‘the racetrack, a roadway that circled the airfield runway and rifle range in the flat land north of the Rock. There several detachments of 2nd Kings Rifles held forth in slit trenches and improved positions behind an anti-tank ditch that cut across the road near the small Passport Office building. Needless to say, the men they saw advancing on their positions were not carrying passports to gain entry, but rifles, machineguns and demolition charges.
Finally alerted to the danger, the 25 pounder artillery positioned at the old Windsor Battery on the rising slopes of the Devil’s Tower, and 5.25-inch QF naval guns around Princess Anne’s battery on Willis Plateau, began to fire. One gun there had been damaged by the German Stukas, but three more began firing at the exposed ground crawling with enemy troops and engineers.