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CHAPTER 8
Battle for Egypt

DURING the Libya fighting of May-June 1942, the pendulum of success had swung even more strongly than before in favour of the Axis forces. Despite stands at Bir Hacheim and other ‘boxes’ by Free French and British troops, Rommel broke through the Gazala line and pressed on to Tobruk. When the New Zealand Division was called to return to the Western Desert, it was expected to take up a position near the Libyan frontier, but by the time its move was completed, it was too late to occupy such a position. This was in no way due to lack of speed in making the move. The 23rd, for example, took only five days to move from Djedeide to Mersa Matruh. The battalion left Djedeide on 18 June and, after passing through Merd-jayoun, Upper Galilee and Tiberias, staged the night at Tulkarm. Asluj and the Canal marked the next two staging points. Officers only had been informed of the unit's destination and a few rumours circulated concerning the ships at Suez which were to take the Division back to New Zealand or to the war in the Pacific. But, as the BBC news grew worse, fewer and fewer men believed in any destination other than the Western Desert. The report that Tobruk had fallen came as a genuine shock. Any lingering doubts as to destination were removed on 21 June as the convoy rolled through Cairo and took the Wadi Natrun road to Amiriya.

Although the move was ‘Top Secret’, with divisional shoulder flashes and hat badges removed, and vehicle signs and fern leaves painted out, the newsboys and other street sellers of Cairo hailed the ‘Kiwis’ as confidently as if flags and all identification signs had been shown. Amiriya itself was just a little dirtier and a little more dismal than usual. On the move along the coastal road towards Matruh on 22 June, the battalion met heavy traffic pushing, without any sign of organisation or control, towards Alexandria and Cairo. Sometimes in two and sometimes in three or more columns, trucks of all kinds from a variety of units, loaded with gaunt-faced weary men, forced their way back from Libya and the scene of the Eighth Army's latest defeats. Sometimes the convoy was disorganised by inter-

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ference from this down traffic and a dust-storm at Daba did not improve the going, but all trucks managed to report at Smugglers' Cove, a few miles east of Mersa Matruh, on 22 June. Later General Freyberg termed the Division's move of over 900 miles from Syria to Matruh as a ‘most remarkable military move’.

During this return to the desert, Colonel Leckie was evacuated sick and Major Romans temporarily took command of the unit. As Colonel Leckie, the last of the First World War officers to leave the battalion, did not return to the 23rd, his departure marked a decisive break with the unit's early history. As its original second-in-command and its commander on board ship, for a time in England, and from 13 May 1941 till 21 June 1942, Colonel Leckie made a notable contribution to the spirit and outlook of the 23rd. All who recall how ardent were the supporters of pre-war Southland Ranfurly Shield football teams will know something of the spirit Doug Leckie infused into the battalion. This spirit, a fierce pride of unit, was sometimes narrow and not markedly friendly towards other units, but it generated a Highland clannishness and a determination to make the 23rd the best fighting battalion in the Division. In the mess, Leckie was ‘one of the fighting Leckies’¹ and in no way a stickler for formalities. He encouraged an independent individualism in his officers and NCOs. In particular, he encouraged them to hold and enthuse their men, not by virtue of their rank but through such natural powers of leadership as they possessed. This helped to make the 23rd a hearty unit in which respect for officers and NCOs grew according to the qualities they possessed and was not something enforced by King's Regulations and adherence to the letter of the law. Sometimes this led to a neglect of what is often termed the ‘regimental’ side of the unit's life. ‘We never over-organised in the 23rd but we always got things done’. In this typical remark of his, Leckie possibly summed up his views on command. During his term as CO, the 23rd may not have been ‘regimentally’ perfect, but it built up a remarkable esprit de corps which was one of the major forces in making it a strong and successful battalion.

Although the sight of an army in retreat was depressing, morale soon recovered: a swim in the Mediterranean, a good

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meal and an equally good beer—company canteens had picked up cases of tinned beer at the various NAAFIs en route—enabled most men to recover their normal high spirits. On 23 June Major Romans placed the companies in position in the eastern sector of the Matruh defences which were then being occupied by the New Zealand Division. On 24 and 25 June the battalion worked hard to clear the accumulated sand out of trenches, to re-erect or improve flattened barbed-wire fences, and to dig new weapon pits. In keeping with orders, a large LOB party, consisting of the whole of C Company and the seconds-in-command of all companies, was sent back to Maadi.² Late on 25 June, to the delight of all who had given any thought to the likely outcome of being shut in this so-called coastal fortress, the New Zealanders handed over the Matruh ‘box’ to 10 Indian Division and moved out on a more mobile role to the south.

After a night move, 5 Brigade took up a defensive position at the head of Wadi el Garawla, but in the afternoon of 26 June moved to the vicinity of Minqar Qaim, a peculiarly shaped escarpment about 25 miles south of Matruh. Here the Division (excluding 6 Brigade which, in keeping with the current Eighth Army doctrine that a division had more infantry than its guns could support, was being held at Amiriya) occupied a battle position with 5 Brigade in the west and 4 Brigade in the east. In 5 Brigade, 21 Battalion was sent off on a separate mission to guard a petrol dump at Bir Khalda, the 22nd was placed on the west facing south and west, while the 23rd took up positions on a terrace and a flat area to the north of the escarpment. In the unit area, D Company was on the west and almost entirely on the flat ground in positions which faced north and north-west. A Company was in the centre on the terrace and covering Battalion Headquarters, while B Company was on the right facing north and north-east.

The ground at Minqar Qaim was extremely hard and, although the urgency of the task kept many of the troops digging till well after midnight on 26–27 June, some slit trenches were still very shallow and sangars had, in some cases,

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been built up from the excavated rocks. The digging-in of the spigot mortars, the new but rather big and clumsy infantry anti-tank weapons which were supposed to be most effective if a hit was scored at 100 yards range, proved virtually impossible in the time available. The news that the enemy had ‘broken through’ at Charing Cross stimulated the diggers to make fresh efforts. Of course, the late discovery that HQ and B Companies had trespassed on the 22nd's area and that the men responsible had to begin digging fresh slit trenches was greeted with typical comments from the soldiers concerned.

After stand-to on 27 June at 4·45 a.m., work on the defences was continued. Carrier patrols went out to the south and west. After breakfast, Captain J. Ensor, the brigade transport officer, conducted all the non-fighting transport to what was hoped would be a safe locality in the south. When, about mid-morning, large transport columns came over the north-west horizon, Major Romans, who was inspecting company defences, was asked the question in most minds, ‘Ours or theirs?’ With typical optimism, he replied, ‘Ours, of course. You don't think the enemy would move at such speed when we have 100 tanks between him and us’. The words were scarcely out of his mouth when the opening rounds in a lengthy artillery duel were fired. The enemy vehicles came on but shells forced them to retire. Several times, as their numbers increased, they advanced and then pulled back out of range. Later in the day the enemy tanks and trucks moved round to the east on the north flank of 5 Brigade and, somewhat later, attacks on 4 Brigade were reported.

The battle of Minqar Qaim was not one in which the 23rd was at all actively engaged. The men were well enough dug-in to be safe from most of the shelling, which varied in intensity from very fierce to spasmodic. All platoons came under this fire, but possibly 11 Platoon came under the heaviest shelling. This platoon was dug in on a small spur running out from the main terrace. One artillery troop had its guns at the end of the spur, another was in the slight depression east of it and a third was in a similar position west of the spur. When the counter-battery shooting reached its heights, 11 Platoon received many ‘unders and overs’ but, although one man was buried temporarily, no serious casualties were sustained.

Shelling is an experience which the infantryman comes to take for granted, but the first time under such fire is trying

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enough. Private Jack Bickley³ wrote an account during the day of 27 June which is of value both as giving a reinforcement soldier's reactions and a picture of the shelling to which the 23rd was subjected on that and many other days:

‘1030 hrs. 27th June…. My first experience of battle…. It's not very pleasant. I'm not actually afraid but a bit het up just like before a football match. Unfortunately, last night in the bustle, we didn't get a very good position. I'm on a solid rock floor, could get only about 6” under the level of the ground and built a rough barrier round me of stones…. That was close! Up by Bn HQ. Whir-r-r-rr DUCK! A couple of trucks are on fire out in front…. Gosh! It's getting hot in here with a tin hat on and the sun streaming in…. 1130 hrs. I'm getting stiff and sore—this rock isn't as comfortable as it might be. Can

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see the flash of his guns now. Here's the first casualty and here's the closest yet…. that one was close, but it was a dud. Quite a few duds come over. A bit of shrapnel just landed next me. 1145 Too close altogether and I can't get any flatter. Bits flying in all directions…. 1200 The skyline is covered with vehicles now. Our 25s have stopped for some time and he's just stopped too…. Later. The shells started again about 1300 hrs and dozens landed round by Brigade. We finished off our area map and I took a copy to Brigade…. There had been five killed in their wadi after dinner. Poor lonely smashed bodies of men lying out in the sun where they had fallen. That was my first sight of the grimmer side of war, and it set me back a bit…. I found Bde and headed back…. back to my hole again. There was a chap dead at the RAP. The shells are coming pretty close now…. Then in come the mortars, horrible things they give you no warning. Jerry seems to be right round us now—will probably attack tonight—don't like the position at all.’

The men in the unit RAP were the hardest worked members of the unit that day. Captain Alan Wilson, the MO, had to attend to artillery and engineer casualties as well as the 23rd's, often under the most trying of conditions, especially after the enemy guns began firing from the north-east. But, for the most part, the long hot day passed with the men lying low in their slit trenches. After dark, Major Romans announced that the New Zealanders were to ‘break out’ from Minqar Qaim: 4 Brigade was to attack with the bayonet and 5 Brigade was to drive through the gap carved in the enemy. Since the unit's B Echelon and the 5 Brigade troop-carrying vehicles had been attacked by tanks and driven off to the south where they were out of touch, the troops were ordered to board artillery, ammunition and any vehicles available. Tactical loading was impossible and platoons were to be split, very often between widely separated trucks.

At 10 p.m. the troops formed up and marched to the brigade rendezvous, where the trucks were waiting in three closely packed columns. Although some difficulty was experienced in loading all the men on the vehicles, by 11 p.m. the columns were practically ready to move. Moving slowly at first via the Divisional Headquarters area, the 5 Brigade group turned south-east about midnight towards the enemy. The zero hour for the 4 Brigade attack was 10.30 p.m. but, as it was postponed because some of the troops could not reach the start line in time, Brigadier Inglis, who had taken command of the Division

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after General Freyberg had been wounded in the afternoon's shelling, decided to try to outflank the enemy positions. Actually, 4 Brigade's attack was highly successful, but the 5 Brigade and other vehicles had in the meantime become involved in a most exciting drama.

Eye-witness accounts of the scene during the actual ‘breakout’ give something of the colour and tension of the few minutes involved. The 23rd carriers covered the right flank of the transport columns; they were told to form a screen. Private Bruce Robson⁴ reports: ‘The carriers kept bunching like a flock of frightened sheep. The sergeant [“Scotty” Anderson⁵] stood up shouting and waving his arms like a maniac. “Spread out! Spread out!” They didn't seem to understand. Behind us came the deep, steady roar of the column…. The gunner leaned forward suddenly and pointed at the ridge ahead. “There's tanks there”, he said in a hoarse whisper. And sure enough their turrets could be dimly seen at intervals along the skyline. There was a breathless moment, a sort of frozen inaction, then, crash! a great ball of fire burst out of the blackness and bounced between us and the next carrier. In a second the air was alive with these horrible messengers of death. As if by a prearranged signal the whole covey of carriers turned and sped away to the right in a desperate effort to divert the fire from the vulnerable line of trucks. The poor old carrier—it seemed to be straining every nut and bolt to out-pace those bouncing balls…. We eased up to a halt. Over at the column it looked as if the lid had been lifted off Hades…. Almost uncanny misfortune had guided one of those first shells into a petrol tank among the foremost trucks, and in a moment the whole ghastly scene was lit up by the blaze. Even as we looked a truck full of ammunition blew up, men's bodies could be seen thrown twenty feet in the air, outlined against a great livid wall of flame. The noise was terrific—engines revving and revving, ammunition bursting, the tear and crash of guns. Confused, helpless figures could be seen running in and out among the fires.’

In the columns, things looked much worse than they were. Much of the German tank fire went high. But the Germans could not very well miss such a perfect sitting target and a

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petrol truck exploded, an ambulance burned fiercely, and boxes of ammunition blew up. Streams of tracer bullets flew down the columns, now clearly shown in the light of the burning vehicles. A Bofors and some other guns were quickly swung into action while, without waiting for orders, some of the trucks in the left-hand column swung left, raced north and then east, and those on the right did the opposite and eventually broke clear of the enemy.

Private Bickley recorded his impressions early next day: ‘At 0200 hrs we ran into it—the experience I'll never forget. We were perhaps 150 yds from the head of our charging roaring column and about the third row in from the right. One bullet—tracer—cracked over the roof of our truck. From straight in our front came streams of fiery machine-gun fire right towards us and straight down our column…. A shell hit an ambulance just on our right…. It was a flaring mass in a minute filling the air with a horrible orange glare. The drivers rushed round to the back doors, jerked them open, but the inside was a blazing inferno…. Then we were round with the fire coming from our right side and back. I saw tracers glancing off trucks and others disappearing through them. I was right on the back of the truck and, even crouching down, felt as though I was ten feet high and six broad. The driver of every truck was flat out—a thundering mass of trucks. I take my hat off to the drivers….’

Private Charles Pankhurst of B Company confirms this impression: ‘Shells and bullets whizzing everywhere—trucks, ambulances on fire everywhere…. What a target for Jerry and I thought that every moment would be my last. However, someone directed the truck to turn left and the drivers were wonderful. They got us away from there in record time though it seemed like hours’.

Private Garnet Blampied was slightly resentful at not being able to return the enemy's fire: ‘… soon he had streams of bullets chasing each other through our truck…. It seemed as though the furies of hell itself had been let loose. The worst part about it was that we were unable to return the fire, we could only crouch low in the trucks expecting any moment that ours would be the next one to go up in flames.’

During the night, the three main groups into which the transport had divided made their way independently back towards Kaponga. In the morning, only Major Romans's staff car and two 23rd 3-ton trucks were with Brigadier Kippenberger

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and 5 Brigade Headquarters, but during the next twenty-four hours practically the whole unit made its way to Kaponga, where a very happy reunion took place.

The 23rd's casualties at Minqar Qaim were 1 officer, Lieutenant Torrens,⁶ and 4 other ranks killed, 14 wounded and 14 lost prisoner of war. The majority of these casualties had been incurred during the ‘break-out’ when a mine-carrying truck had been blown up. As this truck had been loaded with A Company men, most of the casualties which resulted from its destruction were from that company.

On 30 June Lieutenant-Colonel Watson⁷ arrived to take command of the battalion. One of the first of the 23rd officers to be decorated, he had left on a tour of duty just prior to the unit's move to El Adem in January 1942 and had served as CO of the Southern Infantry Training Depot in Maadi and, for a short time, as CO of 26 Battalion. He found the 23rd in good heart and shape. The men were still physically fit. Morale was high: any demoralising effect of heavy shelling or of losses was forgotten in the memory of the ‘break-out’ and the exhilarating dash across the desert. The reinforcements had been ‘blooded’ and had been knit more tightly into the unit. A man could not share a single blanket or a single greatcoat with a mate, as had been the fairly common experience on the night of 28 June, without coming to regard him as a special comrade. A day or two in action was doing what many weeks of ordinary training could not do, especially for those who had joined the unit since the last campaign.

To halt the advancing Panzerarmee, Eighth Army dug in on what became conveniently known as the Alamein line. This defensive ‘line’ extended for nearly 40 miles from the sea in the north to the virtually impassable Qattara Depression in the south. The only line which existed at the end of June 1942 was one drawn and redrawn on the maps. Three defensive boxes, 16 to 18 miles apart, at Alamein in the north, Qaret el Abd (Fortress A or the Kaponga Box) in the centre, and Naqb Abu Dweis (Fortress B) in the south apparently provided strong defended localities. But, as both Fortress A and Fortress B were vacated early in July, ‘falling back on the Alamein Line’

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simply meant taking up fresh positions in the desert between the one firm position at Alamein on the coast and the Qattara Depression. At this time, 1 South African Division occupied the Alamein Box, the New Zealand Division was responsible for the centre, and 5 Indian Division held the south. Large gaps remained to be covered by light mobile columns or by troops arriving from farther east. Eighteenth Indian Infantry Brigade from Iraq occupied Deir el Shein, a depression about eight miles north of Fortress A, while columns of 1 Armoured Division watched the gaps in the south.

In the New Zealand Division, 6 Brigade, which had come forward from Amiriya, occupied the Kaponga Box while the other two brigades moved in a mobile role to the south-east. Within half an hour of Colonel Watson's arrival, the 23rd moved from the outskirts of the Kaponga Box to Deir el Munassib. In this area 4 Brigade took up a position to the east while 5 Brigade held the west, with 21 Battalion on the north, 22 on the west and 23 in the south. The unit's defences were strengthened by the 23rd's own anti-tank guns, which were under the command of Captain Herbie Black, who rejoined the battalion on 30 June.

The next two days passed with only light artillery fire and intense heat to trouble the men, who were often very thirsty but otherwise had few worries. On the second of these days, 2 July, B Company, under Captain Fergus Begg, and a section of carriers moved out with a gun column of 28 Field Battery and a troop from 32 Anti- Tank Battery. This mobile force, under Major John Snadden, moved north-east and joined a larger 4 Brigade force under the CRA, Brigadier C. E. Weir.⁸ Enemy forces were sighted on several occasions but they did not come to grips. Both sides were manoeuvring for position. The B Company men, who were responsible for protecting the guns in their column from infantry attack, dug in on seven occasions that day as a result of the many changes of position. In the late afternoon an artillery and tank battle opened north of Alam Nayil ridge. At dusk the New Zealand guns enabled the tanks of 7 Armoured Division to disengage and withdraw to a laager area. The CRA's group remained in position overnight. As the B Company men had only light dry rations for

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the day, the CSM, Dan Davis, returned to the 23rd area both to get meals and to secure more picks and shovels. Just before dawn next morning, Lieutenant J. Brittenden, the battalion's liaison officer, brought out a truck of supplies, hot stew and tea, and reported cheerfully that ‘the Aussies are arriving from Syria soon and Jerry will get a shock’.

About 7 a.m. on 3 July, before the New Zealand mixed group had moved, an enemy transport and gun column began to move southward across Alam Nayil. Battle was quickly joined; the guns under Brigadier Weir asserted their superiority; 19 Battalion, quickly called to the scene, launched a highly successful attack which completed the destruction of the artillery group of the Italian Ariete Division.⁹ The New Zealanders captured a large number of trucks, and captured or knocked out forty-four artillery pieces. Some 350 prisoners were also taken. While all the credit for this highly successful action was due to the gunners and to 19 Battalion, the 23rd men present returned later that day to their own unit with spirits as high as if they themselves had been responsible for this success.

When B Company returned to Deir el Munassib, it found that the rest of the battalion had gone. Early that morning, 5 Brigade had been ordered to seize the El Mreir Depression, a steep-sided feature about four miles north of Fortress A. Picking up 6 Field Regiment, 33 Anti- Tank Battery and 43 Light Anti-Aircraft Battery near the fortress, the brigade moved to a position astride the Alamein track and south-west of El Mreir. In the face of enemy shellfire, 21 Battalion on the right and 22 on the left occupied positions near the lip of the depression. The 23rd occupied an area in rear of the two forward units.

On the night of 4–5 July, however, after a day of much shelling and considerable air activity and bombing, the 23rd was sent to raid the enemy positions on the north side of El Mreir. Brigadier Kippenberger ordered the unit to move north by trucks to a start line about a mile west of the depression and then attack on foot from west to east through the enemy positions until it reached the Alamein track, which the troops

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were to follow back to their original positions. Years later, he wrote: ‘It was probably an over-elaborate plan and there was little time for preparation’.¹⁰ The plan was not too complex, but the 23rd companies had too little time to prepare for their attack. Although the attack was not due to commence till 9.30 p.m., the company commanders had barely sufficient time in which to give their instructions to their officers before the men had to embus for their move to the start line, which was being marked by the ‘I’ section. Platoon commanders had no adequate opportunity for briefing their men before they moved off in their trucks. The 23rd's raid was to be supported by a limited artillery programme, timed to open as the infantry crossed the start line at 9.30, with normal fire for eight minutes searching and sweeping the enemy area, then fifteen minutes' slow fire after a lift in range. When the guns opened fire, the trucks were stuck in soft sand and the infantry were pushing, shoving, struggling and swearing. Eventually, the men got their vehicles on to solid going, but 6 Field Regiment had completed its task before the infantry had even arrived at the start line. The artillery thus did little more than alarm the enemy and certainly lent little direct support to the late-starting infantry.

The situation on the start line was confused. It deserves description, if only to show what results if troops are thrown into a night attack without rehearsal of the drill that should be observed on such occasions. The 23rd's misfortune in being recalled to Egypt on the very eve of embarking on battalion and brigade training in Syria was now revealed: not once since before Libya 1941 had the unit, now with a new commander, new company commanders and many reinforcements, both officers and men, rehearsed the procedure for moving on to a battalion start line and then moving off smoothly in correct formation for a night attack. On this occasion, the lack of training was made worse by the tension arising from the knowledge that the attack was late, that the benefit of artillery support had been lost, and the number of questions which still had to be asked and answered. Thus, one of the best platoon commanders, Lieutenant Alf Boag,¹¹ had to inquire of the Adjutant: ‘What's the compass bearing for the axis of advance?’ Others wanted to know what was the back-bearing to be followed if they could not locate the Alamein track in the dark. The CO

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and Adjutant, the IO and the company commanders all had to work hard to bring order out of chaos, but eventually the companies began to advance, with D Company on the right, A Company on the left and B in reserve.

But the possibilities of confusion had not been exhausted. D Company advanced with its three platoons in line—16 on the right, 18 in the centre and 17 on the left. Major Cameron,¹² in the centre of 18 Platoon, was too far from his company's left flank to be able to tell whether or not contact with A Company was being maintained. A Company, with two platoons forward and one back, veered slightly to the left while D stayed some-what to the right, and a gap opened between the two leading companies. Captain Fergus Begg hurried B Company, in reserve, along in a tight box formation, with a narrow frontage, in an effort to maintain contact with the forward companies. In his determined efforts to keep in touch, he increased the pace and B Company passed through the gap and began to take the lead. D Company men, hearing the sound of marching feet and doing their best to re-establish contact with A Company, side-stepped towards the left and found most of B Company were in front of them. Something of a mix-up resulted until the correct formation was re-established. Indeed, as one D Company private recorded later: ‘We advanced again and almost shot up B Company who, by some unknown means, had got in front of us’.

Very shortly afterwards, when the companies had advanced about 1600 yards, the enemy opened fire with mortars, anti-tank guns, machine guns and small arms of all kinds. This concentrated fire showed that the 23rd had lost the advantage of surprise and the men went to ground until the officers of the leading companies selected the posts they were going to attack. As some of the fire came from the left, it was obvious that, in crossing the flat bottom of the depression, the unit had missed the exposed flank of the enemy positions. Captain Norris therefore led A Company more than half-left against a large Italian outpost he had sighted. No. 7 Platoon on the left went wide and did not strike many enemy, but the rest of the company, encouraged by the shouts and example of their officers, Captain Norris, Lieutenants Fane Vernon,¹³ Ian Wilson¹⁴ and Horace Cameron, got to grips with the Italians in quick time. The

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leading troops fired their rifles and tommy guns and threw grenades with good effect. They killed a number of Italians and penetrated their positions to a distance of about 200 yards. The last of the Italian positions were found vacated as the Italians had taken to their heels and fled in some disorder. No. 8 Platoon had some of the toughest fighting that night and Private John Milne,¹⁵ an acting section leader, did good work in heading the attack until the first enemy posts were overrun. Even when wounded in the hip, he continued to urge his men on. Corporal ‘Dagwood’ Bain¹⁶ took prisoner one Italian, who surrendered quickly. After quite a fight with the occupants of one heavy machine-gun post, Lance-Sergeant Bruce Gillies¹⁷ and his men knocked out the post and captured the Breda gun. In the darkness, the A Company men got separated in chasing the scattering Italians, but Lieutenant Wilson led 7 Platoon and some of 9 out by the route used on the advance, while Captain Norris collected most of 8 and some of the stragglers and led them out by the Alamein track. A few stragglers joined D Company.

When the 23rd first came under fire, Major Cameron was wounded in the knee and he therefore handed over command of D Company to Lieutenant Boag, the officer in charge of the centre platoon. Finding that the enemy fire sounded worse than it was in fact, since most of it was going high, Boag shouted to his men to follow him. Both 17 and 18 Platoons, with bayonets fixed, dashed into the attack. As they approached the enemy positions, Boag himself was practically knocked off his feet by an Italian grenade. He replied in kind by lobbing a 36 grenade into the nearest Italian weapon pit, which was later found to contain seven dead Italians. The men of these two platoons charged, shooting to the front, throwing grenades and later using the bayonet. In the first positions they struck they wiped out the enemy but, as with A Company on their left, the farther they went the fewer enemy they found, as the Italians simply fled. The enemy small-arms fire ceased and, as several members of D Company claimed later, it seemed that nothing could stop the 23rd from penetrating to the enemy gunline. Unfortunately, at that stage, the order to halt and withdraw came from the

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rear. Private ‘Red’ Kearney,¹⁸ who had done good work throughout, grabbed the last Italian to be seen and the only one left alive in the sector and brought him back as a prisoner. Boag led 17 and 18 Platoons and a few of A Company back by the Alamein track, which was only about 100 yards east of where D Company had mounted its attack. The third D Company platoon, No. 16, failed to join in the attack. In its position on the extreme right of the battalion's front in the advance, its men possibly came under heavier fire than the rest of the attacking troops. At any rate, the platoon commander claimed: ‘We got pinned down by heavy fire and couldn't move’. That this failure to attack when they were supposed to do so had a depressing and demoralising effect on the men may be seen from the fact that during the next few days this platoon was the only one in the battalion to have men evacuated as anxiety neurosis cases.

B Company took no part in the attack. Especially after the shouts of A and D Companies had indicated their entry into the attack, Captain Begg was fretting to commit B Company, but his orders were to wait for the CO's decision. Since, in the confusion of the advance and the move of D Company through B, all contact between the Colonel and B Company had been lost, the company was reluctantly withdrawn with the others without having fired a shot.

Shortly after 2 a.m. on 5 July, the three companies were back in their own areas. Their casualties were light for the amount of fire which had been directed at them. Three had been killed, 15 wounded and 3 left to become prisoners of war. Lieutenant McCambridge¹⁹ had been wounded twice, and with two others had then wandered in the wrong direction, falling into enemy hands. Although a New Zealand Divisional situation report described this raid as ‘completely successful’ and a message was received which stated, ‘C in C congratulates NZ Div on success of last night's raid’, the men of the 23rd were not particularly proud of this engagement. Indeed, it provided many of those who participated in it with a perfect example of how an attack should not be mounted. Nevertheless the battalion was pleased to learn from a divisional intelligence summary

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that its prisoners had led to the identification of the Pavia Division, and that one of the prisoners had reported that a battalion less a company had been broken up by the raid.

For the next two days 5 Brigade remained in position to the south of El Mreir. Conditions were anything but pleasant: vicious shelling and occasional bombing did provide some distraction from complaints about the heat and lack of water. Jack Bickley's diary entry for 4 July reads: ‘Independence Day for the U.S.A. and a stinking hot thirsty shell-battered day for us.’ But, on the day after the raid, mail arrived from home, always a welcome event but one that was particularly appreciated by men who had been campaigning for over a week in the heat of the Egyptian summer. Thus Bob Stone wrote: ‘Mail arrived for us—4 for me—great to get it in front line’; Garnet Blampied described the arrival of letters as ‘one of the happiest events of a soldier's life’, while Jack Bickley reported: ‘We got a great surprise today—mail arrived. What a great time to get letters, they are as good as a tonic’. Spasmodic shelling and intermittent air raids continued: a few more casualties occurred. Lieutenant Boag was one of these and D Company was left temporarily with only one officer. News from the rest of the Alamein line gave no hope of an early success.

The policy of harassing the enemy was continued. On the night of 6–7 July, Second-Lieutenant Don Grant took his platoon, No. 12 of B Company, to Deir el Qatani, a depression only a mile west of El Mreir. Setting out at 10.15 p.m., this fighting patrol ran into about two dozen Germans with a troop-carrier, an anti-tank gun, a Bedford 15-cwt truck and a car. No. 12 Platoon opened fire with all its weapons on this small laager. The troop-carrier bolted, the Bedford was put out of action, several of the enemy were killed or wounded and one of the German wounded was brought back as a prisoner. He belonged to 580 Mixed Reconnaissance Unit. Although the patrol had three men wounded and had lost one ‘presumed killed’, its members were very pleased with their successful brush with the enemy and with having beaten Germans, who were classed as so much better fighters than the Italians.

These days of waiting also saw the 23rd's new anti-tank platoon fire its first shots in action. On 5 July a small enemy convoy approached from the west. Captain Black and his men waited till the leading vehicle came within range before opening fire. Their ‘bag’ was only one vehicle but it was a good start.

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On 7 July, again, the anti-tank guns kept enemy armoured cars, engaged in reconnaissance work, at a distance and knocked out one vehicle.

For the infantry, 7 July was, according to Bob Stone's diary, ‘another very hot and weary day. Doing nothing on very little food and water and being shelled and bombed continuously is a bit nerve racking. Heat terrific—it is hard to rig up much shelter in our holes’. But late that day orders came for a move to the south: the higher command appreciated that the panzer divisions were probing for a gap between the two British corps in the area between Alam Nayil and Munassib and therefore ordered the New Zealand Division to occupy that area. At 8.45 p.m. the 23rd took the lead in a brigade column moving to the south and east. Unfortunately, the enemy's evening ‘hate’ was intensified at that time, and one truck went up in flames and others were damaged. But, despite having a few trucks on tow and striking soft sand en route, the move was completed by 2 a.m.

With the 22nd to the west and facing north and the 21st facing south, the 23rd dug in on and around some escarpments not far from Point 104, about three miles east-south-east of Kaponga. After practically no sleep, stand-to came at 4.30 a.m., and thereafter men busied themselves with improving the positions chosen in the darkness or selecting and digging new and better ones. The day was reasonably quiet: no enemy columns approached within range. On 8 July, too, some of the keener members of the unit arrived back from Maadi, having refused to wait any longer for an official posting. Thus Privates W. Valli²⁰ and E. Green,²¹ both of 10 Platoon, arrived with the supply column, having taken French leave in order to rejoin their comrades in the desert. Captain Charles Mason also returned from a course in Palestine and again took over command of the carrier platoon. ‘Charlie had a reputation for recklessness but his downright common-sense was a tonic in the depression fairly prevalent at this stage. Even the men in the companies seemed affected by the new atmosphere he created.’²²

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That night, 8–9 July, 5 Brigade moved another three miles to the east. Daylight reconnaissance of the route and the new positions, and the marking of the route by lamps, enabled the move to be completed before midnight. The 23rd now took up positions on a low feature which the troops named ‘Iggri Ridge’, a name derived from the Arabic for ‘Hurry-up!’, which describes the treatment administered by the enemy guns while the 23rd occupied that position. On 9 July, too, the enemy occupied Kaponga Box unopposed. Earlier that day demolitions were carried out and vast columns of smoke rose from the Box. The giving up of this prepared strongpoint, the frequent night moves to new positions, and the general lack of reliable information led to much questioning of the ability and intentions of the higher command. ‘I can't understand this war in the least, but I suppose somebody must,’ wrote Private Bickley that day. ‘Kaponga Box blown up by our engineers, had not expected we would not defend this place but suppose the heads have their reasons, all our hard work of last year gone,’ wrote Private Stone. In fact, the Box was too far to the west to form part of a defensive line with the troops available and it was in danger of being isolated. But even Rommel was puzzled and wrote: ‘we were at a loss to understand why they had given the position up’. Other actions about this time were somewhat baffling to thinking troops. On the night of 8–9 July the 23rd established a listening post, under Corporal Jim Baxter,²³ at Point 104, but on the following night the Germans occupied this useful observation point, with a resulting marked increase in accurate shelling of the battalion's positions on the following day.

While it would be both difficult and unfair to generalise at all dogmatically concerning morale in the unit at this time, it cannot be denied that it was beginning to flicker. While the majority were in good heart and condition, some were growing very tired of the shelling, the bombing, the heat, the various moves and the need to dig in again and again. Thus, the normally cheerful Johnston could write at this time: ‘It is very disheartening and we are all beginning to get in the dumps at having to withdraw all the time. Digging in every day is not the best on a bottle of water per day. Have never been so dry before.’ Some found the various moves under threat of encirclement or pressure quite exhilarating, but too much excitement

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can itself become exhausting. On 9 July Bob Stone wrote: ‘We sat quiet all day confident we could smack the enemy if he tried anything on.’ Actually, the enemy was engaged in a reconnaissance in force and, in the late morning, four German tanks and seven or eight troop-carriers approached the gap between B and D Companies. Sergeant Moncrieff's²⁴ anti-tank-gun crew opened fire at about 1200 yards and hit the leading tank. Although it did not ‘brew up’, it came to a halt. The New Zealand artillery opened fire immediately afterwards and the enemy column turned tail, leaving one tank and the two trucks behind. A minefield was laid in the gap but the enemy did not venture again into that sector. Towards evening the battalion's forward troops reported mortar and airburst fire as well as ordinary shelling. Reports of much enemy movement continued to come in. The Germans appeared to be massing for an attack. Consequently, although the word did not reach the troops till after midnight, 5 Brigade made another move to the north-east.

The late announcement of this move meant that several who were dog-tired and sleeping soundly were nearly forgotten. Most platoon officers carried out the normal check and were able to report their men all present and correct, but so hurried were the preparations that some men were left to look after themselves. Thus, Corporal Ward²⁵ and Private Herbison,²⁶ in a listening post about 400 yards forward of the D Company position, only just heard the trucks in time to join their company. Sergeant Percy Cunningham,²⁷ acting CSM of D Company, not being in any platoon, was not warned of the move and remained asleep in his slit trench. Early next morning he watched the occupation of the area by German tanks. He was close enough to see German tank drivers lighting cigarettes and laughing at having conquered unoccupied ground. Later in the day, Cunningham managed to move away unobserved and, by following the convoy's tracks in the sand, he rejoined the unit in El Muhafid Depression.

The news from other parts of the Alamein front was good, without being very good: at the beginning of July, 1 South African Division, aided by the determined stand of 18 Indian

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Brigade, had held the coastal sector against Rommel's first attempt to punch a way through to Alexandria; next, 1 Armoured Division, supported by 1 and 2 South African Brigades and battle groups of 50 Division, had operated aggressively but without scoring any decisive victory; and then, on 10 July, 9 Australian Division, freshly arrived from Syria, attacked in the sector forward of El Alamein station, took the mounds around Tell el Eisa, and captured over 600 prisoners. This encouraged General Auchinleck, Commander of Eighth Army, to order increased pressure along the whole front. Consequently on 11 July, 13 Corps, with 1 Armoured Division on the right and 2 New Zealand Division on the left, moved to an attack generally directed against Ruweisat Ridge, a long narrow feature running east and west about five miles north of the New Zealanders' positions and a short distance east of El Mreir. This 13 Corps attack was to be in three phases: first, the attacking divisions were to seize a start line running north-north-east from Alam Nayil ridge to a wadi later well known as Stuka Wadi; secondly, in operation BACON, the New Zealanders were to seize the western end of Ruweisat Ridge; and thirdly, 1 Armoured Division was to exploit to the west.

However long the various headquarters in the chain of command between Eighth Army and 23 Battalion had been deliberating over the first phase of this attack, the troops who were supposed to execute it, in the 23rd at least, had no time whatsoever to think about it. At approximately 4.30 p.m. on 11 July, Colonel Watson returned to the unit from a conference at Brigade Headquarters with word that the companies had to embus and move off at 5 p.m. As he had gone to Brigade without notifying his Adjutant, no Orders Group was waiting for him and his IO was fast asleep, making up for several very short nights. By the time Captain Cunningham had summoned the company commanders and Lieutenant Pat Lynch had sorted out his maps, worked out compass bearings for the advance in the trucks and attended to other details, there was no time left to give even the company commanders full information and proper orders. The Adjutant insisted: ‘It isn't on! It can't be done!’, but the CO declared that the unit could be pulled together with flag signals. He himself drove off slowly in his jeep waving a flag to indicate that the companies must follow in desert formation. Although the troops hurled themselves into their trucks with no information as to where they were going or what was intended, the 23rd did not move at the stipulated

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time. Once again the hurried scramble to move led to an atmosphere of rush and tension, but the battalion was sufficiently well trained in moves in desert formation to follow the CO's lead without being briefed on what would normally be considered essential details.

The Division made an impressive sight as it shook itself out into desert formation, with 5 Brigade on the right and 4 Brigade on the left. In 5 Brigade, 22 Battalion was on the right, the 23rd on the left and the 21st in the rear in reserve. The enemy artillery quickly opened fire on the target thus provided, and shells began to land thick and fast around the advancing trucks. Garnet Blampied probably described a general experience when he wrote: ‘It is surprising how helpless one feels, with the truck dashing forward and shells screaming and bursting on all sides. On the outside we appeared cool and calm and even made feeble attempts at cracking jokes but I fear that inside we were seething with conflicting emotions, and I guess there were very few who could not honestly say that they had “the wind up”.’ Unfortunately, the driver of the CO's jeep was one of the first hit by shrapnel. Colonel Watson at once took his place at the wheel and drove him back to the RAP. The temporary departure of the CO on an errand for which no flag signal was provided led to the slowing down of the battalion's advance. About the same time, B Company on the left got its trucks involved with those of the Maoris and thus provided the enemy gunners with an even better target than before. The 23rd suffered casualties from this fire, the most important so far as the direction of the unit was concerned being the loss of the Adjutant, Captain Gordon Cunningham. At this juncture, some of the trucks turned about and drove back to a safer area where they let the infantry debus; others allowed their occupants to debus on the spot. Most men promptly started to dig in and only on the return of Colonel Watson was the advance resumed.

By this time, the units of both brigades had begun to advance in a series of long extended lines. They made an inspiring sight as they advanced through the shelling with bayonets fixed and gleaming in the setting sun. After about 6000 yards had been covered, they reached Stuka Wadi, where they were to form up for the night attack. All were certain that they must be intended to go straight into an attack that night but, before the advance was complete, the 23rd LO at 5 Brigade Headquarters roared up in his jeep with the message: ‘No BACON tonight. Bacon

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is off’. This message made sense to those acquainted with the code-word for the next phase of the operation, but sounded like an insult to the men who had been hurried into an advance before they had been given their tea. As it was, all hands had to dig in since shells and mortar bombs were still falling. To be without greatcoats and blankets for the night after a long advance in shirts and shorts and to go without tea did not help morale, but there were compensations. The British tanks which moved to a laager area in rear of the battalion were much discussed. ‘As good as a tonic to our boys was the sight of our tanks. At last we've seen them and know for certain they're here,’ wrote one 23rd private. About midnight, Major Romans brought a truckload of dixies of hot stew to Stuka Wadi. That meal put new heart into the cold and hungry troops.

During the night Colonel Watson, worried that the 23rd was in touch neither with the 20th on the left nor with the 22nd on the right, moved his forward troops to the right, with D Company required to fill the gap between the 22nd and the 23rd. Staff-Sergeant Ron Philip,²⁸ D Company's CQMS, temporarily in charge of 16 Platoon in view of the shortage of officers, received the order to be prepared to move in five minutes. Certain in his own mind that this meant that the attack was now on, Philip sent one section back to Company Headquarters with the runner and went to rouse the other two sections. This took a little time and, when they were all ready, Philip led them forward. Imagining that they must have fallen behind the others, Philip and his men hurried on, never for a moment dreaming that they alone were advancing towards the enemy. After about an hour, dawn began to break and, about 300 yards ahead, they saw the forward posts of the enemy but no sign of the rest of the battalion. Some desultory fire—probably nothing more than early morning clearing of machine guns—sent the two sections of men to ground in a slight depression, where they remained unobserved by the enemy throughout the day of 12 July. Philip ordered ‘No smoking!’ in case their presence was betrayed by the sight or smell of smoke. Thus, the seventeen men lay out in the broiling sun all day, scarcely able to move and steadily growing more parched with thirst. They watched the Italians going about their business, wiring and mining their defensive posts, and Philip was later able to report on movement of guns and vehicles and the

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siting of machine guns. Darkness fell about 8.40 p.m., but Philip delayed moving his men until certain their withdrawal could not be detected. The sections then went back to a small wadi where they rested and some fell asleep. Later they were picked up in a 3-ton truck by Lieutenant Grant Robertson²⁹ of B Company.

Another 23rd soldier, Private George Ellis,³⁰ went missing on the night of 11–12 July. A signaller, he left the B Company area to check on communications with D Company. In returning, he either lost his way or was misled by the moving of the companies during the night. He was posted ‘missing’ and remained on the list of missing for nine months, although, in fact, he was killed on the morning of 12 July along with three members of a Bren-carrier crew whose story follows.

Before first light on 12 July, Lieutenant Charles Mason, with a crew of three—Privates P. Rayner,³¹ driver, D. A. A. Griffin,³² gunner, and B. Robson, signaller—set out to contact B Company and then to try to locate Philip's two sections. They saw nothing of B Company nor of the D Company men, but picked up Ellis some distance out from the 23rd. Robson, the only survivor, can best tell what happened next: ‘Just over a slight rise we ran slap-bang into the enemy lines and the next thing I knew we had stopped practically among gun positions and slit trenches. Griffin, our gunner, hopped out with a 38 and the daft idea of taking prisoners. Charlie acted promptly. He signalled the driver quick about turn and shouted urgently to Griffin, “Back in! Quick man”. In a moment we were off. The Italians started to run for their guns and before we had got up speed or could get over the rise plastered us with small arms fire. Griffin was working an MG on the back of the carrier and I worked the bolt of my rifle like a madman but they had too much fire for us. Griffin got one through the head. George Ellis had one leg all but shot off below the knee. I got hit in the thigh of my right leg. Charlie called for more speed. But the engine choked and stopped. Not fifty yards away to our right sat a Jerry Mark IV tank—its fire had stopped the carrier. Another tank also opened up on us.’

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The odds were too great. Mason, Rayner and Griffin were killed. Ellis was shot by an Italian and Robson was taken prisoner. When the carrier was located nearly a week later, it was in a burnt-out condition and, in the absence of identification discs, the bodies could not be identified. None of the burial party had any idea that Ellis had been picked up, and, consequently, Mason and his men were reported killed in action. Some nine months later, word came back from an Italian prisoner-of-war camp that Robson was alive and that the ‘missing’ Ellis had been killed under the circumstances described.

Bacon, the attack on Ruweisat Ridge, confidently expected by the 23rd on the morning of 12 July, was postponed till the night of 14–15 July. While waiting, most men endured the spasmodic shelling and the heat, and found some consolation in the tins of fruit brought up by the YMCA truck and the sight of the eighteen Bostons going over to bomb the enemy and coming back in undisturbed formation. On 14 July the Divisional Supply Point was bombed by Stukas while 23rd reinforcements were coming forward and the Quartermaster's truck was collecting rations. Sergeant Greig,³³ who had done a fine job as unit ration sergeant, was killed. So also was Lieutenant Ivan Dillon,³⁴ who had been a spare officer in Syria.

In the interval of waiting, more detailed plans had been worked out for the Ruweisat attack: 30 Corps, represented by 5 Indian Division, was to take the eastern end of Ruweisat Ridge, while the New Zealand Division from 13 Corps was to take the western end. Eighth Army orders for the tanks of 2 Armoured Brigade were watered down in the orders of 13 Corps to ‘2 Armd Bde will be prepared to move on centre line of the inter-corps boundary with the tasks of (a) exploiting success of the N.Z. Div to the NW; (b) countering any counter-attack by the enemy armour against NZ Div which may develop from the NE, North or NW.’ The Eighth Army was still learning how to mount a major attack involving different divisions: provision for liaison and for guiding the tanks forward were limited and no specific times were given to the Armoured Brigade.

In the New Zealand Division, 5 Brigade was to attack on the right and 4 Brigade on the left, as in the advance on 11

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July. In 5 Brigade, the attack was to be executed on a 1000-yard front with the 23rd on the right, the 21st on the left and the 22nd in reserve with a ‘mopping-up’ role. ‘There is nothing more nerve-racking than waiting in idleness for the hour of a projected attack to arrive. Thus it was with a feeling of profound relief that we received the news at 5 p.m. on the 14th July that our attack would go in that night’.³⁵

The starting time for the attack was 11 p.m. Long before that hour, the brigade ‘I’ section marked the start line with coloured lights, shaded from the front but visible from the rear, and the units moved into position behind this line. No rum was issued to the 23rd on this occasion as its arrival had been delayed by the bombing of the supply point. A more serious shortage arose from the same cause: no sticky or other anti-tank bombs could be obtained. The RSM, ‘Buzz’ Daly,³⁶ tried hard to secure these bombs but he could not replace those destroyed that day by

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the enemy bombers. Although the artillery fired a few concentrations, these fell far ahead of the infantry, who were to attack without close artillery support.

Promptly at 11 p.m. the 23rd moved off on its six-mile advance, with B Company under Captain Fergus Begg on the right and D Company, now under Captain Ironside,³⁷ on the left, and A Company under Captain Peter Norris in reserve, moving about 300 yards behind the attacking companies. Battalion Headquarters moved in rear of A Company with elements of HQ Company, not normally committed to an attack, but including Major T. B. Morten, the company commander, and Lieutenant W. Cook, the transport officer, who was most anxious to avenge his lost friend, Charlie Mason.

The first two miles of the advance were made in comparative silence, broken only by the occasional word of command— ‘Keep your interval! Don't bunch!’—and the curse that accompanied a fall into a disused slit trench. The sound of boots on stones was covered in part by an RAF plane which circled overhead, flicking its navigation lights on and off and drawing fire which helped the infantry to locate some of the enemy posts.

Just on midnight, B Company encountered heavy fire which came from behind a minefield. Bursts of tracer fire flew across the front of and towards the advancing infantry. Soon the heavier booming of a quick-fire close-support gun added to the noise of the light and heavy machine guns. Mortars also opened up and the noise of firing spread along the front of the divisional advance. Begg quickly decided to chance casualties in crossing the minefield and courageously set the example by leading his men into it. As Private Blampied wrote later: ‘It was a queer sensation crossing the minefield and one seemed to step very lightly.’ Apparently, it was either a dummy or was sown with anti-tank mines only, as no one was blown up on it. At any rate, the infantry were quickly across and, with bayonets fixed and tommy guns blazing to the front, were speedily engaged in wiping out Italian machine-gun and other posts. ‘Despite the heavy fire and bursting of hand grenades, our chaps made short work of the forward positions,’ says Blampied. Unfortunately, during one of the first bayonet charges, Captain Begg was killed by a direct burst of machine-

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gun fire. Private ‘Nip’ Nolan³⁸ of 11 Platoon took a speedy revenge and followed up his grenade by going in with the bayonet on the machine-gun crew responsible. Similar incidents occurred at other points. Several casualties were also sustained. No. 11 Platoon, under the command of Sergeant Dave McKay,³⁹ lost some of its connecting files as well as an outstanding section leader in Corporal Henry.⁴⁰ This platoon thus became temporarily separated from the rest of the company in the confusing fighting which followed. No. 12 Platoon, under Lieutenant Don Grant, was on the extreme right of the divisional advance and, as a gap remained between the New Zealanders and the Indians farther to the east, this platoon was much troubled by fire from its right flank. Grant had some difficulty in keeping his platoon on its correct bearing and preventing it from sheering off to deal with this fire. After B Company had cleaned up a series of enemy positions and taken some dozens of prisoners in a fighting advance of over three hours, its men went to ground for approximately half an hour while Lieutenant Grant Robertson, OC 10 Platoon, who had taken over command of the company, reorganised and also discovered what the movements of tanks on the left front meant. By now all contact with D Company had been lost.

In the meantime, on the 23rd's left, D Company had also encountered the enemy. In addition to small-arms fire, it came under heavier fire from anti-aircraft or anti-tank guns. At this stage D Company was well organised, with the two forward platoons, 18 under Lieutenant J. H. Cameron on the right and 17 under Lieutenant Cooper,⁴¹ in touch and not very far forward of 16 Platoon under Staff-Sergeant Philip. The D Company men held their fire until they were practically on top of the enemy and then went in, firing from the hip and using the bayonet to good effect. As at El Mreir, some of the Italians withdrew hurriedly to the rear, but the great majority of what proved to be the Brescia Division surrendered as quickly as possible. The determined riflemen of D Company promptly shot any who showed fight or were slow in surrendering.

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Soon after striking the first enemy positions, D Company encountered tanks belonging to 8 Panzer Division. The first of these tanks was on the move and spraying the ground with indiscriminate machine-gun fire. One D Company man expressed the general feeling when he shouted at the top of his voice to the German tank: ‘Why the hell don't you go home? You're spoiling the whole show.’ The lack of sticky bombs was a serious handicap at this time. Nevertheless, Cameron and his men went tank-hunting and, with the aid of a tin of petrol luckily found nearby, Private Jack Clark⁴² set one tank on fire. It burned furiously for some time and, as men did not want to show up as a target against its glare, they avoided it.

In the confusion caused by the moving tanks and in an attempt to retain contact with 21 Battalion on the left, the rest of D Company veered to the left and lost touch. By 1.30 a.m. on 15 July, therefore, formation had been lost. Most of D Company, under Captain Ironside and Lieutenant Cooper, kept in touch with what they understood to be the 21st, but when, after cleaning up pockets of resistance encountered en route, they halted for a rest at around 2.30 a.m., they discovered that this force was made up of Colonel S. Allen,⁴³ CO of the 21st, two other officers and one 21 Battalion platoon under Lieutenant Keith West-Watson.⁴⁴

A Company, the reserve company of the 23rd, was meanwhile advancing steadily. At first, its men had no fighting to do, although they came under mortar and later machine-gun fire. About 3000 yards from the start line, they met an enemy tank. Lieutenant Ian Wilson, in command of 9 Platoon on the right, shot at it and threw a grenade at its tracks wi