buyitflauntitthrowit: May 2010

Caro Beppe, vorrei raccontarti un episodio recentemente accaduto nella scuola dove insegno (istituto Mapelli, provincia di Monza-Brianza).
Un normalissimo giorno di lezione vedo arrivare intorno alle otto di mattina degli enormi camion che parcheggiano nel cortile dell'istituto. Nessuno dei colleghi conosce il motivo della loro presenza, quindi mi reco nelle mie classi. All'intervallo noto uno strano movimento e assembramento nel corridoio. Mi rivolgo ad una bidella, la quale mi informa che nell'istituto è presente una troupe Mediaset per girare alcune scene di una nuova sit-com con Ale e Franz e Alessia Marcuzzi. Nonostante la zona sia delimitata da un nastro rosso e si possa soltanto sbirciare, gli studenti non parlano d'altro e sono piuttosto restii a tornare in classe. Qualche giorno dopo leggo sulle pagine del Corriere dedicate a Milan provincia che i sindacati di zona hanno denunciato il preside per aver consentito le riprese senza avere preventivamente consultato e informato il personale della scuola. La cosa emerge in collegio docenti e il dirigente, per nulla imbarazzato, ci comunica: a) l'iniziativa è partita dalla provincia, ed essendo la scuola di sua proprietà non si poteva rifiutare il permesso; b) lui stesso è stato avvisato all'ultimo momento e non ha avuto il tempo materiale di informarci ; c) l'iniziativa ha comunque avuto molto successo, dal momento che moltissimi istituti della zona gli hanno telefonato per sapere come avere la stessa opportunità. Aggiunge infine che dovremmo essere contenti, queste cose danno visibilità! Allora mi chiedo: la scuola è un palcoscenico aperto a tutti oppure ogni iniziativa che vi si svolge dovrebbe avere un intento didattico? Gli insegnanti hanno un ruolo prettamente decorativo o sono protagonisti della vita didattica del loro istituto? La visibilità va cercata ad ogno costo? A meno che, come già sta accadendo, non si voglia allevare una generazione di veline e tronisti!

Sabrina Angela Ferri, freesab@tiscali.it

Military history, like so much else, is prey to the dictates of fashion. There was a time when El Alamein and the desert war loomed large in British historiography. After all, it had all the classic ingredients of a good story.

monty Cherilea

In the person of Montgomery, we had a charismatic British commander, matched by Rommel, one of the most striking German generals. The theatre of war was both harsh and romantic, the classic tactician's paradise and quartermaster's nightmare. A British rifleman told a chum that it was:

'A different kind of war. There were no civvies mixed up in it. It was clean. When we took prisoners we treated them fine and they treated us fine. We had a go at them, and they had a go at us. Then one of us f***ed off.'

The late Ronald Lewin, both a veteran of the campaign and a distinguished military historian, acknowledged his own compassion when Axis forces eventually surrendered in North Africa in May 1943, for '...this had been a good enemy.' And, of course, there was a famous victory: El Alamein, which encouraged Winston Churchill to declare that we had neither a victory before it nor a defeat after it.

Military history, like so much else, is prey to the dictates of fashion.

But the tide of fashion ebbed away. Books like Correlli Barnett's The Desert Generals were (generally rightly) critical of the British high command, and as more information on British ULTRA intelligence became available, so repeated failure seemed all the more remarkable. Rommel's own character and performance were critically assessed, and the once-romantic 'Desert Fox' increasingly emerged as ambitious, crabby, and tainted by his association with Hitler.

And as our knowledge of the fighting on the Eastern Front grew, thanks first to the pioneering work of John Erickson and, more recently, as additional Russian archival material has become available, it became all too easy to dismiss the fighting in North Africa as a mere sideshow.

I am unrepentantly revisionist as far as the desert war is concerned. Firstly, because there was nowhere else where, after the fall of France in 1940, British and Commonwealth troops could engage the Germans and Italians on land. The humbling of Mussolini was an important objective in its own right, and after the German invasion of Russia in 1941, there was a strong case, military and political, for preventing the Germans from concentrating on the Eastern Front.

Next, Egypt sat, like a spider in its web, at the centre of a crucial geo-strategic network that included the Eastern Mediterranean, Abyssina (invaded by the Italians in 1936 and liberated by the British in 1941), the Middle East and the Suez Canal.

There was even talk of an Axis offensive through Egypt linking up with a German drive down from Russia. A German mountain infantryman declared that the objective of the German thrust in south Russia in mid-1942 was simple: 'Down the Caucasus, round the corner, slice the British through the rear, and say to Rommel, "Hello, General, here we are!" '

Even if this was a strategic improbability, the psychological impact of the British loss of Egypt would have been enormous. Lastly, Hitler certainly did not regard North Africa as a sideshow, and his decision to send massive reinforcements to the theatre after El Alamein would eventually result in Axis losses in North Africa being greater than they were at Stalingrad.

And to the assertion that Montgomery, with numbers of men and equipment on his side, was bound to win at El Alamein, I respond that there were previous occasions when the British should have won the desert war but had failed to do so.

Sometimes politicians were to blame. In 1941, after a British offensive had bundled the Italians from the Egyptian frontier deep into Libya, the troops that might have clinched victory were diverted to Greece at Churchill's behest.

However, sometimes the responsibility lay with the generals. In the Gazala battles of mid-1942 the British time and time again snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. Small wonder that the Army was indeed, as Churchill described it, 'brave but baffled'. The Battle of Gazala, fought from 26 May to 20 June 1942, was Rommel's greatest triumph. In a daring and risky move, he drove his army around the flank of the British army and into its rear.

Trapped against the British minefields, his Afrika Korps came within an ace of running out of ammunition and fuel, but his legendary luck held. He was able to repulse every ill-co-ordinated British counter-attack, and then destroy the British armoured forces in a climactic battle around 'Knightsbridge', near Bir Hacheim.

... rumours of catastrophe for the Allies were in the air ...

Within days, Tobruk had fallen to Axis forces, and Rommel was pushing his tired men into a drive for the Egyptian cities of Alexandria and Cairo. In the last days of June 1942, with rumours of catastrophe for the Allies in the air, it seemed that he might reach his goal.

However, the British Eighth Army, under the command of General Claude Auchinleck at El Alamein, managed to halt Rommel's headlong drive. Here Hitler's favourite general found himself in serious trouble. The Axis supply line was stretched beyond breaking point, and he could neither go forwards nor back.

Eventually, in August 1942, he launched his last desperate attempt to reach the Nile Delta, at Alam Halfa. This despite the fact that the petrol tanks of his tanks, trucks and half-tracks were virtually emptyStranded in the desert, the Axis forces dug themselves in, and laid minefields. Rommel, sick at heart and now seriously ill after two years of constant fighting, returned home. He was not with his army when, on 23 October 1942, the famous bombardment signalled the opening of the British offensive against his position, under the command of General Bernard Montgomery.

Rommel quickly returned to the desert, but he could not stem the tide of war. Having had two years of complete freedom in his independent command, he was shocked when he received a direct order from Hitler to stand firm at El Alamein.

This order, which Rommel attempted to obey even when he had decided on withdrawal, ensured that the bulk of the Axis army was destroyed. Rommel's spell of invincibility was broken.Rommel possessed many military talents, but his flaws as a commander doomed him to failure. His lack of staff training meant that, for all his tactical success, he never properly understood the broader context of 'his' war in North Africa - or the fact that the campaign was essentially defensive for the Axis. Most importantly, his failure to understand the complex logistics of the North African theatre meant that his daring advances were never sustainable.

... his flaws as a commander doomed him to failure.

For all his talents as a commander, Rommel did not pass the one true test of generalship - he never achieved a lasting victory. Instead, his flaws dovetailed with the wider bankruptcy of the German army in World War Two. By focusing upon the detail at the expense of the broader operational picture, and by down-playing the importance of logistics, the German army fought brilliantly at the tactical level but was overwhelmed by the combined might of the Allies. Their strength lay in the fact that they were prepared not just to fight but to wage war.

Most importantly of all, Rommel - and indeed almost every other German army officer - failed to see, until it was far too late, that their narrow conception of military duty had trapped them in the service of a brutal, murderous regime. Ultimately, Rommel failed. He was defeated in Africa and then in Normandy, but the bright, if brief, flash of his brilliance in the Libyan desert continues to attract our gaze even to this day.

So in the overall scheme of things, El Alamein mattered, and among the strengths of that prickly and opinionated general, Bernard Montgomery, was a determination to resist political pressure to attack before he was ready. His insistence on fighting a well-prepared 'teed up' battle was properly understood by his soldiers.

Lastly, Hitler certainly did not regard North Africa as a sideshow ...

Even today the road that runs along the very edge of North Africa, with the Mediterranean on the one hand and the desert on the other, is not exactly a super-highway. During World War Two, it was a good deal worse. But it was the umbilical cord that linked the armies that fought for Egypt and Libya with their main logistic bases, and the tide of war ebbed and flowed along it.

In 1940 the Italians advanced from Libya and crossed the frontier of British-protected Egypt, where they halted and dug in. There were attacked by Major General Richard O'Connor's Western Desert Force which drove them back to El Agheila, half way to Tripoli.

However, with the British weakened by the diversion of troops to Greece, in March 1941 the newly-arrived Rommel counter-attacked and recaptured much of the lost territory, though the important port of Tobruk, garrisoned by Australians, held out. In May a limited British offensive, codenamed Brevity, proved disappointing, and the large-scale Battleaxe, following month, saw the loss of 220 British tanks to only 25 German.

In July 1941 Sir Archibald Wavell, C-in-C Middle East, was replaced by General Sir Claude Auchinleck, and in November, the 8th Army at last mounted a successful offensive, Operation Crusader, which relieved Tobruk and pushed on to El Agheila.

But Rommel was not slow in striking back, first in an offensive which took him to line just west of Tobruk and then, in a complex, swirling action between Gazala and the desert outpost of Bir Hacheim, in a battle which eventually saw 8th Army in full retreat.

TopArrival of Montgomery

Captured Afrika Korps troops © Tobruk fell - Churchill called the loss 'one of the heaviest blows I can recall during the war' - and the British did not stop until they reached a position covering the 30 miles of desert between the impassable Qattara depression and the coast, where road and railway run through the little village of El Alamein.

Rommel had been brought to a halt by what Kenneth Macksey has called 'the logistics equaliser'. However, the British were not to know just how weak he was.

In Cairo there was something of a panic on 1 July, which became infamous as Ash Wednesday. The British Embassy and GHQ burnt piles of classified papers, showering the city with ash and charred documents. The sorry episode was followed by the replacement of Auchinleck by General the Hon Sir Harold Alexander.

Montgomery became head of the 8th Army. He was actually Churchill's second choice - the first choice, 'Strafer' Gott, had been killed on his way to assume command.

There will be no more belly-aching, and no more retreats.

It was entirely characteristic of Montgomery that immediately he took command, he signalled Cairo that he had ordered the destruction of all plans for withdrawal. Furthermore he announced: 'There will be no more belly-aching, and no more retreats.' He also set about improving relations between the army and the Desert Air Force, ensuring that there would henceforth be a unified army-air plan.

When Rommel attacked at Alam Halfa at the end of August he was deftly repulsed. Montgomery set about building up the material superiority he needed for his own offensive.

Rommel had about 105,000 men and 500 tanks to the 195,000 men and 1,000 tanks of the 8th Army. He knew that an attack was inevitable, and did his best to prepare for it. He sheltered his force behind a deep and complex minefield covered by lightly held forward posts and backed by strong anti-tank gun positions.

His seven German and Italian infantry divisions manned the front line, with four armoured divisions behind them and another two in reserve in the north. He went to Germany on sick leave on 23 September, leaving his deputy in command.

Montgomery planned a set-piece attack in two main phases. The first, code-named Operation Lightfoot, would be preceded by a powerful artillery bombardment which was entirely consistent with Montgomery's desire to let metal, not flesh do his business wherever possible.

On its heels, the infantry divisions of XXX Corps would attack in the north, and those of XIII Corps in the south. They would open gaps in the minefield through which the armoured divisions of X Corps were to pass. With the armour protecting them, the infantry would widen the minefield gaps and eliminate the infantry positions.

This was a process that Montgomery called 'crumbling.' The bombardment began on the night of 23-4 October, and although the sheer depth of the Axis position absorbed much of it, its bowel-loosening ferocity helped inspire the attack and discourage the defence. Rommel's deputy died, probably of a heart attack, while on his way forward.

The crumbling process proved more difficult than had been expected. There was very heavy fighting in the heart of the Axis position as 8th Army ground its way forward. On the night of 1-2 November the second phase of the attack, Operation Supercharge, was launched, with the armoured divisions breaking through the last crust of defence.

Even now it was no easy business, and on 3 November 9th Armoured Brigade lost 102 of its 128 tanks. Although the surviving elements of Rommel's mobile forces got away as Montgomery, again characteristically, took no risks in the pursuit. His opponents were also helped by the filthy weather. However, the bulk of the Axis infantry was captured.

TopVictory in the Middle East

Destroyed German tank © El Alamein was not the end. A large Anglo-American force landed in French North Africa in early November, and thereafter the much-reinforced Axis forces in the theatre were compressed between 8th Army advancing from the east and British and American troops moving in from the west.

There were yet more swirls of fortune. In February 1943, the Americans were roughly handled at the Kasserine Pass. However, in May, over 250,000 German and Italian troops laid down their arms.

It deserves remembering, and with justifiable pride.

El Alamein had not simply secured Egypt and the Middle East, but it contributed to what was, by any standards, a major Axis defeat in North Africa. It did much to restore British self-confidence and prestige, which had been badly battered by defeat in France in 1940 and by the collapse in the Far East in 1941-2 - which culminated in the loss of Singapore.

It also established Montgomery as a shaman whose spells actually worked. As a man who, at least for the moment, could make the current of war flow his way. It deserves remembering, and with justifiable pride.