Three Kings

For the British, however, tanks were still thought of as a kind of cavalry unit on the battlefield. Indeed, many existing tank regiments had been born from former cavalry units with long, storied histories in the British Army. As such, the roles they thought to assign to armor were scouting and reconnaissance, infantry support, and the occasional mad charge through any hole in the line the foot soldiers managed to create. It was a fundamental misapprehension of the real virtues of tank warfare-mobility and shock, and O’Connor seemed to be one of the first British fighting Generals to appreciate that point.

“My force is already in position,” said O’Connor. “The Italians have waltzed in thinking we were all asleep, but all they’ve done since is sit about in their lodgments and bake in the sun. It’s high time we hit them-and with thunderclap surprise.”

“Without adequate infantry support?” Wavell was also a veteran of the First Great War, where it was infantry that formed the edge and crest of the battle line. When tanks came on the scene they were simply a means of breaking through wire and fortified positions to allow the advance of the real fighting man on the field, the doughty rifleman. Wavell would write after the war: ‘Let us be clear about three facts. First, all battles and all wars are won in the end by the infantryman. Secondly, the infantryman always bears the brunt. His casualties are heavier, he suffers greater extremes of discomfort and fatigue than the other arms. Thirdly, the art of the infantryman is less stereotyped and far harder to acquire in modern war than that of any other arm.’

“I should think you would want to wait for the Australian Division,” Wavell suggested.

O’Connor had seen the misery and struggle of the infantryman all too well in the first war, where the only tactic seemed to be the direct assault on prepared positions into mined wire, and under the intense fire of machineguns, artillery and sometimes gas. It was no way to fight a war in his mind, and he had no intention whatsoever of fighting this one in that manner. At present he had two divisions in hand, the 7th Armored and the 4th Indian Infantry. The thought of waiting for the 6th Australian Division to come up might cost him days of valuable time, and there was one element he seemed to have a firm grasp on-the importance of time in any battle of maneuver.

“The 6th Australian Division? Well where are they? I’d venture to say they’re still within five miles of the docks at Alexandria-simply too far away. It will take them days to get up here and sorted out, and in so doing they’ll accomplish only one certain thing in revealing our intentions to the enemy.”

Wavell raised an eyebrow, listening, his riding crop tucked under one broad shoulder. “Then what do you propose?”

“A raid. Right now, with whatever I have in hand. We hit them in their encampments, lightning swift. We punch hard, and then move to punch again, like a good boxer with fancy footwork. I’ve 32,000 men-including the two divisions you mention. I’ll be up against ten divisions, but they are not massed on any cohesive front. Our reconnaissance has them strung out fromSidiBarani all the way back to Benghazi. If we move quickly, hit hard, run, and then jog right using the desert, we can give the Italians fits.”

“And the infantry?”

“They can advance along the coast and take advantage of the mayhem I have in mind.” The General was almost up on his toes as he spoke, a restless energy animating his sharp intelligence. He was always an active man, quick on his feet, though never one to seek laurels in anything he undertook. It was enough to do a well reasoned job in the most efficient manner, and that done, it really didn’t matter who took the credit. This was character as hard as the steel in his tanks, and it would soon be put to its first real test in this new war.

“Run off half cocked and you’ll have your tanks scattered all over the desert, and with no infantry support.” Wavell did not yet share the vision in O’Connor’s mind. His was a more carefully prepared chess game, with the pawns advancing and the heavy pieces marshalling in support. But O’Connor saw his mission now as that of a bold knight, leaping past his forward pawns to strike deep into the enemy camp and wreak as much havoc as he could. For this he needed one thing-the element of surprise-and he would lose it if he waited for the Australians.

“Let me go now, and I’ll break up all their forward encampments and send them packing. The Australians can come along and round up whatever remains. I’ve been out with several forward patrols. I know the ground, the enemy’s dispositions, and precisely where I want to hit them-right on the flank.”

“On the flank?” Wavell squinted at the map he held. “Why, they’re digging in aroundSidiBarani even as we speak, and that flank is well guarded by these three encampments atTummar andNibeiwa.”