“Attack” had worked for Rommel in North Africa as it had in
France. It had been the armored force’s mantra since the beginning. It was a
keystone of the German approach to war-making. This time under a new commander,
Bernard Law Montgomery, 8th Army held. At Ruweisat Ridge on July 1, the panzers
broke in. For the first time in the desert, they failed to break through. An
end run was stopped cold at Alam Halfa by a mixture the Germans had patented:
combined-arms tactics in a context of air supremacy. By this time Rommel’s
health had declined sufficiently that he returned to Germany, partly to recover
and partly to lobby for more of
everything. Rommel informed his doctor, “Either the army in Russia succeeds in
getting through . . . and we in Africa manage to reach the Suez Canal, or . .
.” He accompanied his unfinished sentence with a dismissive gesture suggesting
defeat.
The stalemate at El Alamein is frequently described as the
final, fatal consequence of either Rommel’s fundamental ignorance of logistics
or his culpable carelessness in supervising them. He thus epitomizes a senior
officer corps whose tactical and operational proficiency manifested tunnel
vision, with caste pride, misunderstood professionalism, or exaggerated
vitalism relegating administration to those unsuited to command troops in
combat.
When Halder asked Rommel what he would need to conquer Egypt
and the Suez Canal, Rommel replied that another two panzer corps should do.
When Halder asked how Rommel proposed to supply that force, Rommel replied that
was Halder’s problem. Rommel was being neither arrogant nor insouciant. He was
expressing the mentality of the German army as reorganized after 1933. Even
Halder declared after the war that quartermasters must never hamper the
operational concept. Rapid expansion encouraged a more pragmatic, hands-on
ethic than had been the case prior to the Great War. The pace Hitler demanded
encouraged focusing on the operational level of war. Planning in turn revolved
more than ever around operational considerations; the logisti cians were called
in afterward.
Rommel saw as well as anyone on either side of the war that
victory in the desert depended on supply. He also understood that he had
relatively little control of his logistics. Germany was a guest in the
Mediterranean, depending on Italian goodwill and Italian abilities to sustain a
small expeditionary force. From his arrival, Rommel successfully cultivated
Italian senior officers and gained the confidence of Italian fighting formations.
The Ariete Armored Division was close enough in effectiveness to its German
stablemates to be virtually the Afrika Korps’ third panzer division for much of
the campaign. Italian infantry, artillery, and engineers time and again were
the fulcrum on which the lever of Rommel’s mobile operations depended.
The Italian army was not as retrograde in its understanding
of mobile war in tactical and
operational contexts as is frequently assumed. By 1940, Italian theorists had
studied German successes in Poland and France and developed a doctrine of
guerra di rapido corso (fast-moving war). Strategically, however, their
generals considered Rommel’s focus on Cairo and the Suez Canal as culpable
overextension. The Wehrmacht High Command understood the Mediterranean theater’s
strategic function was to cover the German southern flank during the decisive
struggle in Russia. North Africa was an outpost, best secured by a flexible
defense.
On the other hand, Hitler had been reappraising Germany’s
strategic prospects ever since Pearl Harbor. The German navy was calling for
systematic cooperation with Japan in a campaign designed to produce a junction
in the Indian Ocean that would bring about the final collapse of the British
Empire. For Hitler, the war’s globalization only confirmed his decision for a
1942 campaign against the Caucasian oil fields. Hitler saw the Japanese
conquests in Asia as weakening Britain’s imperial position sufficiently that
the presence of Axis troops in the southern foothills of the Caucasus would convince
Britain to negotiate, and leave Russia to be finished off before the industrial
potential of the United States, which Hitler admitted he had no idea how to
defeat, could be developed and deployed.
If America’s entry into the war threatened the Reich with
grand-strategic encirclement, the military situation provided a window of
opportunity—six to eight months, perhaps—for consolidating Germany’s position
in a continental redoubt of the kind depicted by geopoliticians like Halford
Mackinder and Karl Haushofer. Mastery of what they called the “Heartland”—the
Eurasian landmass—would set the stage for eventual mastery of the world.
Rommel had a complementary strategic vision. He believed,
especially given the growing imbalance in material resources between Germany
and its opponents, the best approach in North Africa involved maintaining the
offensive at operational levels, taking advantage of German leadership and
fighting power to demoralize the British, keep them off balance, and eventually
create the opportunity for a decisive blow. That was a common mind-set among
Germany’s panzer generals as the war
reached its middle stages. Rommel, though anything but an “educated soldier” in
the traditions of the German General Staff, took the concept one level higher.
He realized British strength would continue to be renewed as long as North
Africa remained the primary theater where Britain could deploy modern ground
forces. Yet he was also convinced that through operational art he could conquer
Egypt and eventually move northeast toward the Caucasus, providing the southern
pincer of a strategic double envelopment that would secure the oil fields of
south Russia and drive across Iraq and Persia, breaking permanently Britain’s
power in the Middle East.
The prospect of Rommel at the head of a full-blooded Axis
drive into the Middle East continues to engage counterfactual historians. It is
a staple chapter in the alternative histories that show Germany winning World
War II. But a crucial prerequisite for large-scale offensive operations in the
Middle East was Axis maritime superiority in the Mediterranean. The Germans
could make no significant contributions. The Italian navy had suffered heavy
losses that its construction and repair facilities could not replace. Air power
was no less vital, and here too the burden would have fallen on an Italian air
force whose effectiveness was steadily declining. Obsolescent aircraft, lack of
fuel, and indifference at senior levels proved a fatal trifecta. As for the
Luftwaffe, those human and material resources not deployed to Russia were
increasingly being reassigned to home defense.
Any Middle East offensive mounted from the Mediterranean
would require a port. Alexandria, even if captured relatively undamaged, would
be no more than the starting point for an increasingly long line of
communication over terrain even more formidable, and less developed, than
Russia. The survivability of German and Italian trucks in the mountains of
Syria and the deserts of Iraq was likely to be less than on the Rollbahns of
the Soviet Union. The Middle East lacked anything like a comprehensive,
developed railway network. The problem of securing a thousand miles and more of
natural guerilla/bandit country would have daunted the most brutal Nazi
specialists in genocide.
The final damping factor of a Middle East campaign was its
dependence on a successful drive through southern Russia to the Caucasus. Should Rommel’s panzer strength be doubled,
without regard for the demands of the Russian front, or for how the additional
tanks and trucks would be supplied, the offensive through Egypt would
nevertheless remain a secondary operation. If German tanks did not appear in
the southern passages of the Caucasus by early winter, any successes Rommel
might achieve were likely to prove all too ephemeral. And yet the question
remains: What might Rommel have achieved with a couple of additional panzer
divisions, a little more gasoline . . . ?
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