TANK ATTACK AT SIDI REZEGH

Press, Volume LXXVIII, Issue 23714, 12 August 1942, Page 2

TANK ATTACK AT SIDI REZEGH

DESERT WARFARE

We crossed the “wire” on "Day One” —November 18.1941—and we travelled far. and we travelled fast, nor -west. We smashed the Ariete Division—a brigade of us. We forced the Hun to the north, in actions day after day. An action takes it out pf a than. A sane man is afraid of being killed. <• man likes a meal. You may have the food aboard, but you may lack in*chance to cook it; as often as not its Army biscuit and jam. soread in the turret on the move. The machinegun gives off toxic fumes when fifed. That docs not help. When a shell burst near, the turret acts like a dium —my gunner was evacuated with concussion that way; that doesn t help, either. The weather was bitterly cold: we had lost many friends; but so had the Hun. We of the cruiser tanks did not know the meaning of the phrase “supported by British tanks,” It was just British tanks —and crews.” So we forced the Hun to the BOfrh; narrowing his road of escape to the west, between ourselves and Tobruk. We “smashed him up” on the mprning of November 21. I was. I think, the onlv sufferer thereby. My driver was wounded: my smoke-mortar wrecked and my power-traverse gear knocked out - also I had no steering to the left, so my loader had to drive. Then we were ordered to the north again. . There lay the Axis airfield of Sidi Rezegh, and south of it, running east and west, ran a valley which was to become known as Death Valley. Sidi Rezegh is like a _ lemon squeezer; the aerodrome in the centre, the valleys round, and hills round the valley, so that anyone who commands any part of the surrounding hills commands the airfield. We approached from the south and we crossed Death Valley, then in our possession, and we gained the aerodrome. All round wer* Axis aeroplanes. Our chaps had neatly shot the tails off. We found gunners, British and South African, digging in. We had reached our objective, so we paused and drew breath. We thought we’d done fine. ~ „ , Suddenly, slap in the middle of the guns, burst an H.E. shell from a Boche Mark IV. The brave who had salvaged an Italian parachute for , his, beloved, left it and turned his attention to more serious duties. More shells burst —that’s the bore about Jerry; he has about 1000 yards on. us. Our guns opened up. Their O.P. gentleman was sitting on top of a derelict aeroplane, with plenty of shells bursting within 20 to 50 yards of him, but he never budged. They burst within the same distances of the guncrews, too; they just didn’t seem to notice. They loaded and fired, loaded and fired: and at dusk they were doing the same thing, without armour. There are no braver men. Suddenly from the west, across the rise, came

[From the letter of a British officer of the armoured forces,]

the German Panzer Division— great mud-brown shapes in a haze of dust. A huge Savoia bomber was ablaze and the biack smoke mingled with the dust. That dropped parachute trophy was neglected, except by longing eyes. Across the aerodrome, from north to south, were strung the lines of British tanks, streamlined and dustcoloured; tanks of varied units, firing, weaving, and firing again. Twopounders clanged out their curious double note, dust flew from tracks and from bursting shells The lines of British tanks changed and moved. Jerry v elevates and • traverses by wheel: we >W.it by. pewer.2, and shoulder. It takes vngaf 1 to find his target, but when me does he can go on hitting, so the more you change the more chance you have. This went on for hours, and there were plenty of burning tanks on both sides. You couldn’t tell who was doing best. Over the rise from the north came a thin line of men, pale hats on their; heads, dressed in brown, arms at the ' trail. As they came on they waved their arms to our chaps. Suddenly they flung themselves to the ground —Jerry anti-tank gunners! (You can’t teli the Afrika Korps kepi from a battle-bowler at 100 yards.) They ‘ have courage. They got a lot of us. Freddy Crowley, our S.S.M., covered us with his smoke-mortar, as he always did, and saved many a,-life. They hemmed us in on three sides. Still the tanks and gunners fought; and Flodden Field was not fought harder. Dusk fell and the tracers flew like rockets from side to side, until it was impossible to distinguish friend from foe. Blazing ’planes and blazing ’ tanks added to the confusion and the two sides reformed and drew 0ff.,.. , Sentimental things are written' about “gentlemen’s agreements” not to fight at night. The truth of the thing is that both sides laager on the same principle; both sides keep theit locations secret, so that you are as likely to attack your own people as , the enemy’s.

We were tired and we, were hungry, and some tanks were knocked out, others were damaged, and men - were wounded. In ' the dark we refuelled and replenished, and lay down to rest. Then we were turned out-again. We were to move off by night, to protect the South Africans’ left. I had only half steering'and was one man short In the crew, so I was not allowed to go. Had I gone my chances of survival would have been one in five. From behind a desk a German or an Italian is a rat. From here he is a man with a gun—usually bigger than ours; and a man with seven years’ start. The average man, who - faces this life, with its very average expectation, at a less than average wage, is all the greatness that ever was in Britain.