Voices from the Peninsular War

Updated Sunday 15 May, 2011 12:18 PM

Voices from the Peninsular War

“Growing evidence suggests that a German force of around two Corps strength has crossed the Pyrenees, and is in transit though Spain, towards Gibraltar. This force has entered Spain with the welcome of General Franco’s government, and consists of armour and infantry, with artillery support. The despatch of German air and sea forces is anticipated. A declaration of war by Spain against Great Britain appears imminent. All forces at your disposal should be placed on high alert, in preparation for an assault from land and possibly sea.”

War Office Communication to Commander of Gibraltar garrison, 10^th January 1941.

“We felt deserted. A few days earlier, me and the lads had waved to the Navy ships as they left the harbour. We’d thought nothing of it, assuming they were off to escort a convoy to Malta. That morning listening to the drone of the approaching bombers, manning our Bofors gun, all of us knew the sailors had been the lucky ones. They’d got to escape to fight another day. Us left behind, the garrison, were the forlorn hope! The Empire’s brave last stand!”

Gunner David Thompson, 87^th Heavy AA Regiment.

“We had taken off from airfields in France during the night, and flew down to Spain. After refuelling near Malaga, the squadron headed out over the Mediterranean, so the attack went in against the Rock of Gibraltar from the East, coming out of the rising Sun. It was a terrifying experience, with tracer rounds racing past, and flak bursts shaking my plane as if it were a flimsy child’s toy. Over the radio, I heard comrades shout, ‘we’re hit, we ‘re going down!’ My God, we were lucky there were no enemy fighters! It was a heavy raid, heaven knows Gibraltar was pounded hard that morning, but I remember looking down on that menacing steep rock, and thinking, ‘thank god, I don’t have to fight my way up that on foot’.”

Lieutenant Gerhard Fischer, Luftwaffe Stukagruppen 2.

“In terms of numbers, the advantage was ours, attacking with a division against a garrison of four battalions of infantry, plus artillery. The problem was that the assault was to be from the landwards side, and Gibraltar being a narrow peninsular, the frontline would accommodate only two regiments attacking side-by-side. This dulled the effect of our superior numbers. A diversionary attack would go in from the sea, but the Navy had vetoed a major amphibious assault. They said the British had more than prepared for a sea attack. Of course, the British had also considered the likelihood of being attacked from the only land route, but the Admirals must have decided that soldiers were easier to replace than ships. A parachute drop was out of the question as the paratroops would have been coming down on the heads of the defenders like clay pigeons!”

Major Heinz Breuer, 98^th Mountain Regiment.

“After the air raid, a barrage was to sweep the Rock, and neutralise all known strong points, and any that the airmen had spotted that were new to us. We infantry would then move forward and secure the ground, with dive-bombers being called in to silence any strong points encountered which had survived the opening bombardment. Everyone in our battalion was very excited on the journey down through Spain. The speedy victories of last Summer had filled us with easy confidence. Just the sight of that towering rock face knocked a lot of the bounce out of us.”

Private Max Ringsdorf, Grossduetschland Regiment.

“My father was at Verdun. After Gibraltar I felt sure I knew what he had been through. We had watched the Rock being engulfed with explosions, which filled us with confidence. Once we started forward, under a fog belched from smoke generating machines, the truth became quickly apparent, that the bombardment had been no where near as effective as we’d supposed. The Tommies had been deep underground, and now spilled out of their bunkers, pouring fire down on us. The Stukas were called in to break points of deadlock, but bombed us as often as the British. The Tommies fell back on new positions, further up the slopes. Our advance was slow and painful. By nightfall the greater part of the Rock still loomed high above. We were told a second air raid was due the next morning, and we would assault straight afterwards.”

Private Michael Brandt, 98^th Mountain Regiment.

“After a couple of weeks, I began to wonder if we would take that damned Rock. Everyday we went back up, and pounded what we had been told were the enemy positions. In Madrid, later that year, I nearly got into a fight with an infantryman, who insisted we had bombed our own troops harder than the British. I’m sure that was an exaggeration, as he was upset, but the fighting on the ground was confused, often at close quarters, and shrouded in smoke. None of us could say for sure if we had bombed the right side every time.

For that matter, it is hard to say how much difference we in the Luftwaffe were making to the battle. The defenders were dug-in deep - not just bunkers and trenches, but tunnel networks cut deep into the rock. We just couldn’t shift them by aerial bombardment. It reminded me of what I had heard of Verdun - an ugly fight, with the common soldier having to settle the matter in person.”

Lieutenant Gerhard Fischer, Luftwaffe Stukagruppen 2.

“We had been rotated out of the line, and were catching up on some sleep, when the crash of a barrage and the shriek of air-raid sirens awoke us all. There were sleepy cries of ‘GO ON BOYS!’ and ‘FINISH IT THIS TIME’, from the huddled figures in sleeping bags, encouraging the latest assault on its way. Then the adjutant crashed into the room and shouted, ‘TAKE COVER! ITS AN AIR RAID!’

I went from half-comatose to leaping to my feet in the blink of an eye, grabbed the adjutant by the arm, and yelled over the drone of aircraft engines, ‘WHO THE HELL IS BOMBING US?’

‘THE BRITISH!’ he replied.”

Major Heinz Breuer, 98^th Mountain Regiment.

“The last thing they imagined was that we would take the battle back to them. It was just assumed we’d slowly roll-over and die. I took a party of infiltrators forward under cover of darkness, and as the Fleet Air Arm lashed the Rock with its air raid, we rushed a forward slit trench in the confusion. Its occupants dropped their rifles and shouted “Kamerad!” at the sight of us. I’m sorry to say we despatched them, all the same. We couldn’t take prisoners back, as infiltrators we had to keep pushing forward, to cause the maximum disruption.

That we certainly achieved, rushing the second, then third line; lobbing grenades into air-raid shelters and slit trenches, then finishing off survivors with the bayonet. Looking back, it was a grim business, but at the time my adrenaline was up. Then suddenly, we were through their lines, and encountering rear area troops; signalmen, stretcher-bearers, and military policemen. My god, they were shocked to see us! By sunrise, we’d pushed Jerry back across the middle saddle of the rock – a week for them to capture, and lost in one night.”

Sergeant Douglas McAlaister, 4^th Black Watch.

“It was quite a blow, to actually find ourselves losing ground, at a time when we expected to have completed the operation. There were units in Spain that had been earmarked for the Russian campaign in June. Tactically I was not impressed by the British assault, it would have made more sense for them to conserve strength. In terms of morale it was a masterstroke. The British defenders felt less like the forlorn hope, and our spirits were at a low point. Nevertheless, I viewed the event as a delay, and was still convinced that we would take the Rock.

The Navy assured me that the aircraft carrier attack had been a one-off, and that the submarine cordon would prevent any re-enforcements arriving by sea. A counter invasion this soon was unlikely. I decided to assault again with fresh troops, which meant a delay, as infantry regiments were rotated into and out of the line, but time was on our side. In the meantime, the Luftwaffe continued to bomb, in order to limit the respite for the Gibraltar garrison.

Of course, I had to take that cursed Rock. I’d have been commanding an observation balloon in Norway had I not!”

General Ludwig Kuebler, XLIX Corps.

“We were playing cards and drinking coffee in the basement of my brother-in-law’s house. It must have been close to dawn, but you could not sleep through the noise when an attack went in. Then all the sounds of battle fell off noticeably over the space of twenty minutes, and had disappeared entirely by the time the sun crept into the sky. This could mean only one thing, the British had given in, and we all headed out into the streets, to see what was going on. A civil guard told me, ‘the British surrendered in the night. Gibraltar is Spanish again!’

Obviously, I didn’t tell him what I was thinking - is Gibraltar Spanish now, or German?

That afternoon a column of German trucks rumbled down the main thoroughfare, with British soldiers riding on the back, mostly fast asleep. Their uniforms were dirty and ragged; it seemed like all of them were bandaged to a greater or lesser extent. My mother watched in silence, but in our kitchen preparing dinner she was vocal. ‘We’ve not seen the last of this. You watch, one day it will be Spanish uniforms in rags, and the British driving our men away in trucks. Where will the Germans be then?’”

Maria Chaves, citizen of La Linea, Andalucia.

“After four weeks of fierce resistance, Gibraltar’s garrison has succumbed to overwhelming German forces. We should salute their stubborn resistance. Each man involved, when asked ‘what did you do in the war?’, should answer proudly, ‘I was at Gibraltar’!

Generalissimo Franco, who came to power by force of arms, will regret his choice of company. Already, the Canary Islands are under British occupation. Moreover, he will find that Hitler, while eagerly accepting the offer to enter Spanish territory, will not respond the same way to an invitation to leave.”

Winston Churchill to the House of Commons.

“Certainly in Barcelona, which had been strongly Loyalist in the civil war, joining Hitler’s war was unpopular. When the attack on Gibraltar began, my brother and I, and a close friend decided we would not wait to be called into the Spanish Army, and made our way to the border with Portugal, claiming to be visiting relatives in Badajoz. Having slipped over the border, we took a ship from Lisbon to Britain, and were interned on arrival as enemy aliens.

The Spanish exiles were of great interest to British Intelligence, who had us transferred to a special camp in Berkshire. I gave lessons in Spanish and Catalan to their spies, while others translated documents, studied aerial photographs, and amended maps. Eventually, many of us were allowed to live out the camp, and lodged with local families. That’s how I met my wife.

Later in the war, a Spanish Brigade was formed, consisting of Catalan, Basque and Asturias battalions, which many of us joined. We fought in Burma against the Japanese, and celebrated the news of Franco’s suicide in Rangoon in 1945.”

Jordi Argelés, Catalan exile.

“General Student was against attacking Malta, believing it to be too strongly garrisoned. He preferred an invasion of Crete, as its defenders were mostly escapees from Greece, low in morale and short of heavy weapons. However, OKW was insistent that Malta should take priority, as its capture would open up supply to North Africa. With Gibraltar in our hands, taking Malta would secure the western Mediterranean.

Malta would have been a tough assignment in the best of circumstances, but what happened horrified us all. The British had cracked our ciphers, and those paratroops whose planes made it to the Island, came down into a blaze of gunfire, many dead before they reached the ground. After two days Operation Hercules was abandoned, and our Paratroops on Malta were forced to surrender. After that, Hitler banned further airborne offensives.”

Major Dieter Kuehne, XI Air Corps.

“Roosevelt and Marshall wanted to push ahead with Sledgehammer, a plan the British had drawn up for an invasion of France. The British were against this, saying they had only intended to launch Sledgehammer if the Russians looked close to collapse, in order to force the Germans to turn their attentions west. They believed that an invasion of France in 1942 would be premature.

Roosevelt wanted American forces to go into action in Europe as soon as possible, to show the folks back home that we were really in the war. Churchill tried to interest us in Gymnast, an invasion of Morocco, but we felt that such an attack would prompt the Germans to invade Vichy France and its African territories.

The compromise opted for was Torch, an amphibious assault on the North coast of Spain. It was hoped that going into a former Republican stronghold, our force would receive support from the local population, and may cause civil war to break out again elsewhere in Spain.”

General George S Patton.

“There had been some token resistance to the landings, and fighting to enter Santander and Bilbao. For the most part though, we were greeted by reservists who wanted to surrender, and some battalions had to be employed as gendarmerie, as the civil guard had mostly fled or been lynched by the locals. Resistance began to stiffen as we advanced eastwards from Bilbao. Regular Spanish troops were now deployed against us, conducting a fighting retirement towards Durango, where the Wehrmacht were concentrating.

Durango was a real shock. It really brought home just how green we were. You have to remember a year earlier, I had been studying law at Stamford. We were fighting an enemy that had a wealth of combat experience, while our own side discovered nothing but shortcomings in tactics and equipment. For instance, the M3 tank I commanded had its 75mm gun mounted in a sponson in the vehicle’s hull, so couldn’t properly adopt the ‘hull-down’ position the Germans used to great effect. They taught us a hard lesson that week, and we learned a lot of respect for our adversaries.”

Lieutenant Martin A. Keegan, US 1^st Armoured Division.

“The Germans were very arrogant, and had a poor opinion of Spanish soldiers, who they regarded as peasants. In the bars and cafes, there was often brawling between Spanish and German enlisted men, and even officers were typically cool to one another. A Panzer commander I encountered at Durango told me, ‘We could have gone to North Africa, and saved Rommel, if you Spaniards were able to look after yourselves!’

The Civil war had devastated the economy, so Spain needed German equipment, which increased the impression of us as being a poor relation. Typically they gave us their cast-offs, leaving Spanish soldiers having to fight with out-dated equipment, against an enemy with ample resources. In the Basque campaign, the battery I commanded was equipped with German 37mm anti-tank guns, which I later discovered were called ‘door knockers’ by Allied tank crews – a reference to the weapon’s lack of punch. Later on, we were re-equipped with 5cm guns, which was an improvement, but I wished we had seventy-fives, or better still, eighty-eights. Then things would have been different.”

Lieutenant Francisco Mateo, Dragones de Alfambra Battalion.

“We regarded ourselves as the ‘forgotten army’. After the initial enthusiasm for the invasion, First Army had ground to a halt as the Germans and Spanish counter-attacked. The Germans attempt to run us back into the sea had failed, but the resources weren’t committed to allow us to break out. We had the crumb of comfort that our presence tied up resources that could have been sent to Italy. All the same, any of us would rather have spent Christmas Day 1943 in Rome with the Fifth Army, than in a trench in Asturias, where conditions were harsh. That was probably the low point in terms of morale, although judging from what prisoners told us, the other side were in as bad a way.”

Private Alfred Mercer, 2^nd Battalion, King’s Own Scottish Borderers.

“I didn’t reckon much of Spain as an ally. You gave one of those Spaniards a rifle, as often as not he ran off with it and joined the Guerrillas! My regiment was sent to Catalonia, after the big uprising. Even after order was restored, we had to live in fortified camps; going out on patrol was nearly as dangerous as being in the frontline. No sooner had we sorted things out in Catalonia, they rose up against us in Andalucia. When the Americans landed in Barcelona, the locals cheered them in. They’d been waiting for that moment for years!”

Corporal Jurgen Helmer, 104^th Panzer Grenadier Regiment.

“The battalion commander called all the officers to the mess tent, and told us, ‘the Germans are abandoning our country. They want to send their tanks to fight in Normandy, against the new invasion. Spain cannot hold the Allies alone, so the Generalissimo has ordered a new defensive line be established along the Pyrenees, where the Germans will help us. We leave tonight.’

That afternoon an Allied plane dropped leaflets, written in Spanish, saying that the Germans were going to send us to Russia. In the past, battalions had been decimated by desertions once rumour had spread that it was bound for the Eastern Front.

However, just as the battalion was about to move out, a motorcyclist arrived with new orders, and the CO called another officers conference. His face was even graver this time, which alarmed us all. For a moment even I wondered if we were going to Russia!

‘Gentlemen, I have terrible news’, he rumbled. ‘There has been a military coup against the government. We have been ordered to Madrid, to make war on our brothers.’”

Lieutenant Francisco Mateo, Dragones de Alfambra Battalion.

“‘Maria, have you heard?’ asked my brother-in-law. ‘They’ve taken Gibraltar back.’ There was no need to ask who ‘they’ were. The news had gone around about the British fleet arriving. I couldn’t bring myself to be too angry. The Sten gun I’d carried as a Guerrilla, fighting the Germans, was British.

‘Well at least Franco is gone… and we’ll be able to go home now,’ I added by way of consolation.

‘That will be good. Things can be normal again.’

I wondered what ‘normal’ was? Growing my hair long again, wearing a skirt not trousers, sleeping in a bed, perhaps? As a Guerrilla, I’d got used to living like a bandit on the run. Sometimes it hurt knowing these days, with my cropped hair and army boots, I looked more like a boy than a young woman. But, the idea of going back to helping my mother prepare the dinner, being chaperoned, and going to church, did not appeal.

‘Things won’t be normal again. Everything has changed. Spain has changed.’

‘Spain!’ laughed my brother-in-law, ‘haven’t you heard? We’re now living in The Worker’s Republic of Andalucia!’”

Maria Chaves, People’s Army of Andalucia.