3
Corps Headquarters and the AIF 6th Division were indeed going to Greece. They would be part of Operation Lustre: a plan to move around 58,000 troops from Egypt to Greece in March and April 1941.
The Greeks were fighting the Italians, who had invaded at the end of October 1940. The Italian attack was Mussolini’s way of asserting his independence when Hitler failed to consult him before German troops entered Romania. It had the potential to satisfy Mussolini’s unfulfilled ambition to dominate the Balkans.1 But in heavy rains the Italian advance had bogged down after only a week, and by late November Greece had begun a counter-offensive. Britain occupied the island of Crete to allow Greek forces there to leave and move to the front further north, but this only made Hitler worry that the RAF would be within range to strike at the precious oilfields Germany had just occupied in Romania.2 From their cracking of German codes the British knew that the German High Command was planning a spring invasion of Greece. By mid-January 1941 Churchill, under the impression that if the British were in Greece, Turkey would join them, had ordered the British Middle East Commander-in-Chief Archie Wavell to send what forces he could.3
The British had learned from their mistakes in France, where messy chains of command had sabotaged operations. Now all Allied forces in Greece would be under a single commander-in-chief. That man was to be General Papagos, who was already in command of the Greek Army. It seemed a sensible choice: pick the man who already knew the fight. Churchill believed the campaign would be popular in neutral America. The Greek counter-offensive was front-page news for The New York Times on six days in one week of November 1940. Britain was also coming to the aid of the Greeks when the Lend-Lease Act, vital to reducing Britain’s crippling supply issues, was about to face the US Senate.
From 4 March, a series of convoys at regular three-day intervals moved from Alexandria to Athens, with Royal Navy and Royal Australian Navy warships providing an escort. This deployment included the British 1st Armoured Brigade, the New Zealand 2nd Division,* and the Australian 6th Division. On 26 March 1941, British, Australian, and New Zealander logistics staff, with Ralph, the Captain, and the Chevy truck among them, crammed aboard six hulking transport ships and left on the high tide after dark. Most of the combat troops had gone in the preceding weeks.4 Logistical staff usually went ahead of a force, not after it; Ralph thought it was odd, but he buried these doubts for now.
Ralph’s ship was full to bursting, the cabins crowded and noisy – he was hardly able to breathe, let alone move. Standing on deck provided fresh air but was often as crowded as inside. He found himself among elements of the 6th Division, a battle-seasoned group from New South Wales and Victoria. Its soldiers had a harder edge to their humour and conversation. Ralph was now grateful for the two months he had been able to spend with the Captain: they had prepared him for these big-city blokes from Sydney and Melbourne. He and thousands of others had to sweat, chat, and stew for three days. There was a mixture of excitement and fear in the convoy: excitement that ‘Lusterforce’ would fight alongside the Greeks, legendary after their victories over the Italians; fear that the undefeated Wehrmacht (German armed forces) would destroy them.
The Greek and Italian lines had stabilized in Albania to the north-west, and it was expected that Germany would attack from the north-east via Bulgaria. The British wanted Papagos to withdraw some of his forces and establish a short defensive line further south, near Mount Olympus. There the Greco-British force could hold if the Germans smashed through the border defences.5 However, the prestige of besting Mussolini had swollen Papagos’s head. He committed, irrationally, to defending that prestige instead of Greece. Papagos wrote, ‘[We] decided that in the event of a German intervention . . . the Greek Army should not jeopardize its position as victor in the fight against the Italians.’6 Though the British thought they had an agreement, only a token Greek force would end up joining them at Mount Olympus.
Ralph’s ship was in danger. An Italian fleet had gone to sea to destroy the convoy and stop the British intervention before it began. On 28 March 1941, their third night at sea, there was little moonlight as Ralph and hundreds of others stood on deck. It was so dark that they could see distant flashes of shell fire that were deciding their fate. They had no details, but they knew a great battle was underway. At 22.20, after a long pursuit, the Royal Navy’s Admiral Cunningham and his fleet found part of the Italian fleet and had opened fire at close range.7 A savage four-minute barrage sank five ships and damaged another two in what became known as the Battle of Cape Matapan. The Italians retreated. 2,300 Italian sailors were dead, and over 1,000 more were rescued, to become prisoners of war.8
The following day, 29 March, Ralph arrived in Athens, where the convoy received the exciting news that an Italian fleet had been defeated. Spirits soared as the soldiers formed ranks and marched through Athens to camp, cheered by joyous Athenians.
Here in Athens Ralph saw his first German soldiers. Greece and Germany were still at peace, so German guards stood outside the German Embassy in full dress uniform. It felt bizarre. It must seem crazy to them too, he thought. Everyone knew the situation would change in a matter of days.
Although every minute was precious, Ralph’s first order was to take a few days’ leave. During that time, he got to explore the Acropolis and the Agora, like many of the other men on leave. He found a few who were as interested in history as he was – even the Captain crossed his path in the ruins. He purchased an English–Greek dictionary and tried to talk with the locals. Before long, Ralph came face to face with Greece’s crippling poverty, seeing malnourished children everywhere in Athens, and respectably dressed women loitering around the Australian camp scavenging the soldiers’ food scraps.9 For Ralph it brought back memories of the shanty town along the Torrens in Adelaide ten years before.
Meat was impossible to get, but the exchange rate meant even the poorest Allied soldier ate like a king. Basking in the spring sun, they gorged on oiled vegetables and rice, washing them down with a coffee substitute made from roast acorns, or with alcohol. The Australians at advanced positions made a nuisance of themselves with drunkenness10 – the British called them ‘Blamey’s Bludgers’, a reference to the Australian commander, Lieutenant General Thomas Blamey.11
A map of Greece and the surrounding countries in 1941. Nafplion is marked.
Map 4. Greece, 1941
At the beginning of April, his leave was over. Ralph was reunited with the Captain and the pair journeyed north to the village of Gerania, the Australian HQ and the best spot from which to communicate with Lusterforce HQ to the south and the New Zealand HQ to the east. The Gerania HQ, situated on the western slope of Mount Olympus, also had direct command of Australian combat troops further north. The locals were hospitable, but the village was poor, and the HQ itself was less than impressive. It was in a damp, mosquito-infested forest and was described as ‘a collection of wretched hovels, and its inhabitants had a bad record of malaria . . . the houses were infested with vermin and the yards with savage dogs’.12 Day and night, Ralph was eaten alive by mosquitos.
Ralph, the Captain, and the Chevy resumed their work, mapping the landscape near Mount Olympus. It was beautiful: the countryside shimmered green and gold after the spring rains. Olympus was still capped with snow, the first Ralph had ever seen. Tales of the Greek Army’s courage against the Italians were legendary but, worryingly, since leaving Athens Ralph and the Captain had not seen a single Greek soldier. Where were the Greeks? They weren’t coming.