Chapter Eight
When on the 21st May all reserves had jumped and conquered the aerodrome of Maleme, from that time the battle of Crete was won for Germany.
General Student
While the two smaller and independent actions were being fought at Rethymno and Iraklio the decisive battle between Gruppe West and the New Zealand Division was being fought around Maleme and Galatas. We left Lieutenant Colonel Andrews’ and most of 22 New Zealand Battalion having, unilaterally, withdrawn eastwards, from their position on Hill 107 and the Maleme Airfield, to join 21 and 23 NZ Battalions across the valley on Vineyard Ridge. Andrews had been left to fight his battle unsupported, either physically by significant reinforcement or emotionally by a remote and passive commander 5 NZ Brigade; Brigadier Hargest.
Ceding Hill 107 and positions surrounding the airfield offered an unwitting General Student his only success. It would seem that neither Andrews nor Hargest appreciated the fact that Hill 107 was now the vital ground for the airborne invasion. However, with the lack of information, compounded by poor passage of messages, they were not to know that elsewhere the Germans had failed, nor could they have anticipated that cession of Hill 107 could be quite as vital for the enemy as it was. There have been persistent accusations that some of the older New Zealand commanders held to a Great War ‘line holding’ concept rather than a focus on ground, manoeuvre and destruction of the enemy.
On the morning of 21 May 1941, the Fallschirmjäger of the Luftlandesturmregiment (LLSR) believed they had failed. Failed to take more than what amounted to a toe hold on the Maleme airfield and failed to secure the dominating Hill 107 and were, consequently, surprised to find only isolated detachments of 22 NZ Battalion left on the feature and its surrounding area.
Student’s Plans
Overnight in Athens, General Student, unaware of Andrews’ withdrawal, pored over his maps seeking a way of recovering the situation. Communications with Rethymno and Iraklio were virtually non-existent and Prison Valley offered little opportunity for flying in troops, even if the surrounding heights were not occupied by New Zealanders. If, contrary to the principles of war, he was going to ‘reinforce a failure’, Maleme was the place for Student to concentrate his effort. He described this as:
A very grave decision. I decided the whole mass of the reserve [this was not in reality a formal reserve] of the Fallschirmjäger would be put into action at the aerodrome of Maleme. It was a critical night for me. If the enemy had made a united all-out effort to counter-attack during the night 20th-21st or on the morning of the 21st then very tired remnants of the Sturm Regiment, lacking ammunition would have been wiped out.
Student ordered, further proving Ju-52 flights to both Iraklio and Maleme airfields to take off at dawn. The fate of the earlier flights to Maleme and Iraklio have already been recorded but the aircraft, flown by Hauptmann Kyle to Maleme on 21 May, landed successfully on the western end of the airfield, despite machine gun and rifle fire on his approach. In landing, he had proved that the Tavronitis end of the airfield was not swept by smallarms fire, even if aircraft had to brave fire on the final approach and 27 NZ Battery’s shells (3.7-inch mountain and Italian 75mm) were bursting at the eastern end of the area.
At the same time, another Ju-52 flown by Leutnant Koenitz managed to land on the pebble beach to the west of the mouth of the Tavronitis River. This flight was apparently unauthorised. His radio operator records that Koenitz had spent all evening listening to the situation briefs and the radio traffic from Maleme and realising that LLSR were in trouble decided on his own initiative, to fly a load of ammunition to the beleaguered Fallschirmjäger. Not long after Kyle landed on the airfield Koenitz put his amazingly tough Ju 52 down on the beach – a tremendous feat of flying but landing here was clearly not practical for the scale of fly-in that XI Fliegerkorps planned. However, light aircraft with vital stocks of ammunition were able to use a strip of cleared and levelled beach throughout the day.
Maleme airfield with wrecked Ju-52s scattered about.
The shingle beach at Maleme, present day. Leutnant Koenitz managed to land a Ju-52 transport on this surface.
With the ammunition being offloaded and the beach being cleared for the indestructible Ju-52 to take off again, Koenitz went to find the LLSR’s HQ. Here he found the wounded Generalmajor Meindl delirious; apparently believing that he was still in Norway. The General and seven other seriously wounded men were flown back to Athens by Koenitz.
The result of the information gained and the presumed loss of the aircraft sent to Iraklio, led to a glimmer of hope developing into a course of action for Studert. Maleme was to be reinforced at the expense of the other areas, which would have to hold out until relieved. Orders were issued; Maleme was the schwerpunkt. The LLSR was to drive the Commonwealth troops back beyond artillery range of the airfield, the amphibious force would all head for Maleme and 5th Gerbirgsdivision would also fly to Maleme rather than to Iraklio. The first of the ad hoc Fallschirmjägerbattalions would be formed from the 850 men left out of battle or left behind the previous day due to insufficient aircraft. They were placed under Oberst Bernhard Hermann Ramcke, an officer who was ‘too old for airborne operations’ and as already mentioned had only come to Greece to train the Gerbirgsjäger in air portability techniques. The Fallschirmjäger had to first re-rig the Ju 52s back into the parachute role, which meant that their drop could not be until late afternoon.
The operational aim was to drive west to link up with Gruppe Mitte and advance on Hania and seize Souda Bay. The aircraft of VIII Fliegerkorps were, of course, to support this advance in strength.
Meanwhile, the LLSR could not believe their luck. They pushed forward on to Hill 107, overwhelming small parties of New Zealanders, of D and A Companies who had blocked all earlier attempts to capture it. But they were now isolated detachments and were easily surrounded. Swastika air recognition panels were soon laid out on the olive trees and vines of Hill 107. However, the remnants of 22 NZ Battalion slowed the cautious Germans by putting up fierce resistance. Stukas were called on to support the advance, dive bombing targets, particularly the New Zealanders’ artillery, indicated to them with air panels and flares. By 1100 hours, the eastern end of the airfield was clear and the Germans had occupied the hamlet of Maleme and closed up to Pyrgos where they were in contact with the remainder of 5 NZ Brigade.
Reorganising his defences, Brigadier Hargest did little to oppose the advance of the LLSR, let alone deliver an immediate counter-attack from his own resources that the situation required. This passive stance, however, highlights the difficulty of any daylight move, which invariably attracted the attention of the circling Luftwaffe dive bombers. At 1115 hours, Hargest did propose to Brigadier Puttick that a counter-attack should be made under cover of darkness. In the meantime, a relative period of quiet settled over the battlefield, punctuated by bursts of fire from the New Zealanders’ Vickers guns, as the Germans prepared their next move.
Reinforcement
The enemy plan was for HQ 100 Gerbirgsjägerregiment and its II Battalion (II/GJR 100) to fly in from 1700 hours onwards, while Oberst Ramcke’s reinforcement was made up of elements 5 and 6 Kompanies of II/FJR 2 that could not be dropped at Iraklio the previous day and other left out of battle Fallschirmjäger, totalling about 250 reinforcements. They were to drop at 1800 hours, onto a DZ on the coastal strip between Pyrgos and Platanias, a mile behind the front line. The drop was to coincide with an attack from the airfield that would link up with the LLSR from the west.
Oberst Ramcke was to jump east of the Tavronitis and take command of the LLSR and leading elements of the Gerbirgsjäger, as they arrived.
At 1700 hours, the familiar roar of fighter and dive bomber engines over Maleme was supplemented by the deeper throb of massed Ju 52s. ‘Here they come again’ was the resigned comment of many New Zealanders.
Oberst Ramcke.
Oberleutnant Rossenhauer of GBR 100 was aboard the leading group of Ju 52s:
We were flying towards Crete! Quiet, without any turbulence and at low altitude … Wearing our lifejackets, our weapons and our bags by our side, we looked into the deep blue sea…
Passing in front of the island of Theodori, the Cretan coast was now in front of us. Here we are! The AA guns opened up and welcomed us. We could see little spots of light around our Ju-52s. The planes lost altitude and got ready for landing. The machine-gunner aboard was emptying his magazines one after the other.
The airfield was on the edge of the sea, there seemed to be no obstacles. Three Jus from the first wave landed and threw up a huge cloud of dust which marked the landing strip. This was too short and because of the dust nothing could be seen. We were on edge. ’Hold tight,’ shouted the pilot.
The landing was perfect! A few seconds later, he pulled the aircraft abruptly to the right to a standstill. Immediate disembarkation!
The noise of engines and exploding shells was all mixed up. Our aircraft were submitted to terrible punishment from artillery and machine-gun fire. Petrol flowed from the tanks. Would they catch fire?
Crates and [motorcycle] sidecars were unloaded. All very quickly, but unfortunately it was too late. Our Ju was so severely damaged that it could not take off again. Near the plane, the battalion commander was wounded; he was evacuated from the firing zone aboard a sidecar. It was unbelievable, but nobody was wounded inside the plane.
Our planes were landing non-stop, one after the other, some of them on their bellies. The pilots were blinded by the dust. Destroyed Jus very quickly blocked the strip making it unusable. Half the planes could not land and circled over the strip, shooting with the weapons on board. Many of them landed on the beach, under enemy fire, but the beach was not made for our heavy Jus. We the Jägers were on the battlefield and that was the main thing.
Captain Baker watched the landings on the beach east of the Tavronitis’ mouth, ‘…apparently having filled the aerodrome they commenced to land along the beach until finally they had landed right down past where we were taking cover’. C Troop, 27 NZ Battery ‘at once switched fire onto those planes on the beach’. Captain Baker witnessed the result.
They gave a first class exhibition of gunnery and accounted for the six planes nearest to us in a matter of moments. Certainly in practically all cases they were set on fire before the occupants had the chance of alighting and out of these six planes I saw only twenty men who ever left that beach.
German war reporter, Kurt Neher was aboard one of the Ju-52s that crash landed.
Men, packs, life jackets, ammunition were thrown forward … for some seconds we lost every bit of control over our bodies. Then the Ju came to a halt half standing on its head … Only two hours before we were lying in the shade of our planes on the mainland and now we were being fired on from everywhere.
Germans capture Hill 107.
The Edelweiss, motif of the German mountain troops.
Gerbirgsjäger emplaning Greece.
On their way to Crete and arriving safely at Maleme airfield.
Even though the landing on the airfield and beach had produced a graveyard of twisted metal airframes, to make a difference, sufficient of the 52 aircraft delivered their passengers and cargo. Some 650 fresh troops of Oberst Utz’s HQ GJR 100 and his II Battalion were available for tasking by nightfall.
While the desperate fly-in to Maleme was under way, the attack of the LLSR and drop of two rifle companies and part of the anti-tank battalion was taking place. The LLSR’s attack against the well dug-in 23 NZ Battalion, despite close air support, lacked sufficient punch to make much impression. This is what the defenders had to say about the attack:
About 4 p.m. a more definitely organised attack from the north came in on the platoons commanded by Lieutenants Thomson and Ensor. These HQ Company men stood their ground and repelled or killed the enemy with their steady fire. We estimated, perhaps a little optimistically, that nearly 200 German dead were left in front of the 23rd positions. But, in the main, the day was one of attacks, recurring attacks, from the air rather than of serious attacks from the troops on the ground.
With regard to the parachute reinforcement, despite recommendations passed back to Student in Athens, again the enemy paid a high price for dropping on top of Commonwealth forces. Franz Rzeha of 5 Kompanie, II/FJR 2 was amongst them:
We could see our escorts, Me-110s on both sides. Just before our arrival we flew over the island of Theodori to the west. It was there that the AA started shooting. We could hear and see the host of AA shells which perforated the skin of our Junkers. Looking through the window we could see two Junkers which had been damaged, and which were returning to the continent. One had an engine on fire, the other had fuselage damage.
‘Get ready.’ A light anti-aircraft battery fired at the Ju 52s with all its might. The signal ‘Go’ delivered us!
The drop from 70 metres up was a jump into hell. We dropped in front of and behind the English and the New Zealanders, into a vineyard near Pirgos. I could hear the sound of bullets. We had the impression of being expected and were getting shot at from the enemy positions. But we had to get through. A lot of comrades were killed or seriously wounded, still attached to their parachutes. When we got down, we could hear their shouts for help, asking for a medic. There weren’t any. The shouts were very loud to begin with, then went calm and then ceased altogether.
The surviving comrades identified the centre of resistance and advanced [i.e. withdrew!] in the direction of the hill from where the best part of the shooting was coming.
Ju-52s crashland into old stone walls and 22nd NZ Battalion’s abandoned sangers.
The engineers and 19 Army Troops Company were on the ground near the DZ, along with 28 Maori Battalion. Twelve Ju 52s dropped their Fallschirmjäger on top of 19 Company and another twelve sticks dropped over the westerly elements of the Maoris. There was fierce fighting in the Maori battalion’s area. Across the DZ running fights developed similar in nature to those of the previous day and prevented the Germans from forming up into a cohesive force. Captain Anderson, an NZ Army Service Corps officer, wrote:
At one stage I stopped for a minute or two to see how things were going and a Hun dropped not ten feet away. I had my pistol in my hand – what for I can’t imagine – and without really knowing what I was doing I let him have it while he was still on the ground. I had hardly got over the shock when another came down almost on top of me and I plugged him too while he was untangling himself. Not cricket, I know, but there it is.
The logistic troops of 19 Company were in the infantry role. Captain Anderson continued:
Our fellows behaved well and did some good destruction. Every man who could handle a rifle did his bit. Officers – cooks – bottle-washers – all were at it. Unfortunately we only had one Bren on the strength but the two chaps using it did a magnificent job.
The drop was a disaster and did little to assist the LLSR’s progress being almost entirely dealt with by the troops on the spot and the Maori’s D Company. About eighty Fallschirmjäger escaped westward towards the airfield but small groups, however, remained in cover near the drop zone and proved to be a considerable nuisance and were to have a significant impact on the coming night’s operations.
Oberst Ramcke made his first operational jump just to the west of the Tavronitis, amongst the last men to drop on a DZ near the bridge. He was lucky, as up to forty others were caught in a sharp offshore breeze and blown out to sea to drown. Ramcke immediately took command and confirmed orders already given to deploy the Gerbirgsjäger in defence of the newly captured airfield, mostly occupying captured New Zealand positions. With the fly-in of the Gerbirgsdivision, the newly arrived Ramcke could also expect further reinforcement during the night from the amphibious force.
With the situation looking more positive but the overall outcome still unclear, the Gerbirgsjäger’s war diarist wrote:
On the evening of the second day of the invasion the situation seemed to be on a knife-edge. If II/GJR 100 had landed with light casualties, the defences of Maleme Airfield would be considerably strengthened, but a heavy concentrated British [sic] counter-attack would force the defenders to fight for their lives.
And it was a counter-attack that General Freyberg had in mind.
Counter-Attack Plans
While the German reinforcement of Maleme was under way, General Freyberg held a conference with his chief of Staff, Brigadier Puttick (Commander NZ Division) and two of the brigade commanders, Inglis and Vasey. Hargest and Kippenberger, however, were committed to fighting the current battles on their front and sadly did not attend. The conference resolved to mount a counter-attack, with two battalions, to retake Hill 107 and the airfield, supported by 3nd Hussar’s Light Tanks and an RAF bombing raid. The operation was, perforce, to begin after dark and was to be complete by dawn, in order to avoid the depredations of the morning bombing.
Two battalions, 28 Maori and 20 NZ Battalions, was a relatively small force considering the amount of uncommitted infantry in the area. However, ‘economy of effort’ is a principle of war and, at the time he made his decision, Freyberg had no knowledge of the enemy’s efforts to reinforce the LLSR.
The concept of the plan was simple but ULTRA’s warnings of the presence of the German Amphibious Force over the horizon, ‘heading for the Hania area’, was a factor that weighed heavily on Freyberg’s mind. The General believed that leaving 20 NZ Battalion’s positions on the ideal landing beaches just west of Hania unoccupied would be a risk too far, as his interpretation of the ULTRA intelligence was still that he faced an assault landing force rather than a reinforcement. Consequently, he ordered Brigadier Vasey to dispatch one of his two Australian battalions from Georgioupoli to take over 20 NZ Battalion’s positions. Eighteen miles away, 2/7th Battalion had no transport of its own, consequently, it was appreciated that moving 580 men would take time and Zero-Hour was set for 0100 hours, leaving five hours until dawn or six and a half until the dive bombers arrived for the morning attacks.
CREFORCE’s basic time appreciation was, however, subject to the ‘resistant medium of war’, that renders ‘the simplest action difficult’. To start with, the Australians were neither connected to Souda by radio or telephone, which meant that there could be no concurrent activity while the trucks drove from Souda to Georgioupoli. Their arrival with the Australians coincided with a Luftwaffe raid on an ammunition dump and the drivers scattered into cover, from which it took some time to round them up. It wasn’t until well after 1700 hours that the main body set out for Hania, under Major Marshall, following Lieutenant Colonel Walker who had gone ahead with his Recce Group.
Major Marshall wrote:
Just as we had completed embussing of the battalion … some enemy planes discovered us… I started off with the planes still around. It followed our idea from Greece that the best way is just to go on in the face of attack … We whizzed down the road … Then we turned a corner and found half a dozen planes above with the obvious intention of attacking us. It was rather exhilarating. The planes had now obviously got on to us, but the road was winding along a valley and there were few straight stretches. The planes cruised about waiting for us … Twice I watched a plane single us out, bank and turn to machine-gun us along the straight and I told the driver to crank it up. It then became a race to the curve … We streaked along and I hoped the battalion was following.
Meanwhile, the remainder of the force was assembling including Lieutenant Farran and his troop of Light Tanks.
We stopped at Platanias village, where the New Zealanders had their Brigade Headquarters. When the Squadron Leader told me that my troop had been selected for the counter-attack, I slightly resented it, since we had been in action almost non-stop for forty-eight hours and I felt that this was almost certain suicide.
Together we mounted the steps of an old farmhouse to receive the orders from the Brigadier [Hargest]. He was a red, open-faced man, who looked like a country farmer and it was obvious that he was suffering from acute fatigue. He asked us to wait for half an hour while he had some sleep. Disgusted, intolerant, we sat on the steps until he was ready. Then he began to explain his plan, which had the merits of simplicity if nothing else. There was no artillery apart from a few captured Italian guns, which had to be aimed by squinting down the barrel, so we were to advance without a barrage. There were no mortars … There were no spades, so weapon-pits would have to be dug with steel helmets. My orders were to advance at a slow pace down the main road, since the ground was too rough to get off into the open country. Parallel with my middle tank, the 20th New Zealand Battalion would advance on the right and the Maori Battalion on the left. In particular, I was to be aware of two Bofors guns, recently captured by the enemy, which were said to be mounted near the village [Maleme] and would blow large holes in my tanks. I protested that my tanks were only thinly armoured perambulators and that this was a job for Matildas, but I was sharply brought back to reality by the reminder that beggars cannot be choosers. All the Matildas had been knocked out the day before. He acceded to one request, which was that a section of Maoris should advance behind each tank, so that I could better judge the pace and to prevent Molotov Cocktails from being thrown from the ditches.
The delays imposed by air attacks on the road to Hania meant the last company of 2/7th Battalion did not leave Georgioupoli until 2000 hours and that the relief in place of 20 NZ Battalion was not complete until about 2330 hours, which left the New Zealanders just an hour and a half to reach Palatanias in trucks, receive orders and to join the Maoris on the start line. This proved to be far too little time and it was not until 0245 hours that they were approaching the Maoris who had been waiting for four hours. Zero-Hour was eventually set as 0330 hours. With the amphibious threat, it would have been a brave commander to have released 20 Battalion before relief but failure to do so had a profound effect on the attack.
Major General Freyberg went to bed at his HQ at Venizlo’s Grave, on the evening of 21 May, optimistic that, with the Royal Navy having located the enemy shipping, they were set to intercept the German amphibious flotilla. With this counter-attack, as he believed, under-way, he felt he had matters under control.
Naval Action
The German Naval Commander Southeast, Admiral Schuster, having no major Kriegsmarine vessels under his command had to rely on some sixtythree commandeered, Greek crewed, motor sailers (principally fishing boats or caiques), seven cargo ships, each capable of carrying 300 tons and an Italian destroyer (Lupa) and several motor torpedo boats as escorts. They were formed into two convoys at the Piraeus near Athens; one originally bound for Iraklio, the other to Souda Bay. The convoys were to each carry a battalion of the 5th Gerbirgsdivision, some heavier support and administrative units of 7th Fliegerdivision that were not air portable or could not be lifted with the number of aircraft available. Mules and similar heavy equipment belonging to 5th Gerbirgsdivision were also to be in the caiques. The tanks (Marks II and III) of 5 Kompanie Panzer Regiment 31 (5th Panzerdivision), the heavier anti-aircraft and anti-tank guns, bulky equipment, as well as further stores and ammunition were also to be carried by sea in the cargo vessels and converted barges in a thind, Heavy Flotilla that on the night of 21-22 May, had not yet left Piraeus.
Armed with ULTRA intelligence, at 2300 hours on the night of 20-21 May, a Royal Navy cruiser task force sailed around Cape Spatha, into the Sea of Crete to intercept the German amphibious convoys. Force C seeking to intercept the Iraklio-bound convoy (Flotilla 2), which as the convoy was still at Milos, had a fruitless night. Captain Rowley’s Force B, however, had more luck with the western enemy flotilla now redirected to Maleme.
Suddenly at about 2300 hours, searchlights from the north were trained on the bright sails [of the caiques] and rolling salvos of medium naval guns, a burning ship, then quiet … no signal, no light, not a trace of the flotilla remained.
The German naval officer landed in advance of the caique force could only wonder ‘What had happened?’ The cruiser HMS Dido had picked up the flotilla on her radar and fired illuminating rounds. The German report on the operation concluded:
Strong enemy surface forces had encountered the advance command vessels of the small Flotilla 1, which was enroute for Cape Spatha. Flotilla 1 had become stretched out considerably due to the varying speeds of the vessels. The flotilla itself was shot up, rammed and dispersed without the possibility of defending itself.
Feldwebel Gunter Kerstens of III Battalion, Gerbirgsjägerregiment 100 (III/GJR 100) was aboard one of the caiques:
By our second day in the boat, I was no longer sick and we were nearing our destination, Crete, when ahead searchlights came on and heavy guns started to fire. We could see the English ships getting closer, silhouetted by the flash of their guns. Ships and boats ahead of us were on fire and then it was our turn. The boat alongside us exploded then through the smoke came the bow of an English ship. I could not move. Some jumped but I was stuck to the spot as it came down on us. The boat splintered and was pushed under the big ship, me with it. With my last living breath, I came to the surface to see the ship continuing the Gotterdammerung.
I spent all next day in the water, clinging to wreckage before being picked up. The English Navy made no attempt to rescue us – curse them!
About fifteen out of thirty-two caiques were sunk and between 350 and 400 Germans drowned, most of them from III/GJR 100 but the Fallschirmjäger also lost support elements principally through the destruction of equipment. The dispersal of the force and the attack’s concentration on the leading part of the convoy had saved it from total destruction. Also, according to the German report, ‘Valiantly the Italian destroyer entered the uneven battle and one of them succeeded in laying a smokescreen’. The destruction would have been greater but for Commander Mimbelli’s desperate engagements with the Royal Navy at very short range that allowed the flotilla to scatter.
The second flotilla with II/GJR 85 aboard, was recalled to Piraeus and amphibious operations were suspended until the Royal Navy had been driven from the Sea of Crete. To that end, on the morning of 22 May, VIII Fliegerkorps began an all-out attack on the British fleet, which was forced to withdraw from the Aegean after suffering heavy losses. The battle between the Luftwaffe and the Royal Navy ended in victory for the Germans, who, with air supremacy, controlled the skies and seas north of Crete for the remainder of the campaign.
Greek caiques commandeered for the invasion of Crete.
Counter-Attack
While awaiting the arrival of 20 NZ Battalion at the Palatanias Bridge, the Maoris’ B Company conducted a preliminary operation to drive away enemy parties and re-established 19 Army Troops Company in its forward pits.
This was accomplished by sending Private Timihou with a section to draw fire while the others, with the enemy located, worked in behind them. The result was a dozen dead paratroops and one live glider pilot. Because he appeared to be very young and could speak a little English, he was taken along as a mascot, was lost sight of later, and probably rejoined his own people.
The counter-attack proper was finally under way, two and a half vital hours late, at 0330 hours, when the first two companies of 20 NZ Battalion were ready on the start line beyond the Platanias Bridge. The attack went ahead without the RAF bombing of the objective. 28 Maori Battalion under Colonel Dittmer planned to ‘advance on a two-company front, with D supported by Headquarters Company on the right and A leading C Company on the left’. It was anticipated that the ‘first part of the advance to just short of Pyrgos village was to be regarded as an approach march’. The Maoris had, however, to be prepared to clear pockets of Fallschirmjäger left from the afternoon’s drop. ‘To this end the forward companies were instructed to put out a screen of scouts across the front.’
HMS Dido had picked up the German invasion flotilla on her radar.
See map map page 187
Lieutenant Roy Farran’s troop, protected by Lieutenant Reedy’s platoon of Maoris, was leading the attack along the Coast Road and was almost immediately in action.
At half-past three we moved forward from the start-line, a stream outside Platanias. The fighting began almost immediately. I sprayed the front with my tracers and was lucky enough to hit an ammunition dump, which exploded like ‘golden rain’ at the Crystal Palace. The line of figures marched steadily forward. I saw several parachutes lying in the trees and there were two dead Germans hanging on the telephone wires, blown up like green bladders. A white Very light was fired from a cottage on the left and we gave it a whole belt of Vickers. I was astonished to notice that my section of Maoris had suffered heavy casualties in the dark. I had not even realised that we had been fired at, but the sadly depleted numbers and the bandage round the head of the sergeant were evidence enough.
Away from the road, the approach march had barely gone half a mile before both battalions were in contact with the enemy. D Company, 20 NZ Battalion encountered a large group of Fallschirmjäger in a house and after some sharp fighting captured it. The Battalion history describes the situation:
From in front, on either side, and sometimes from behind came streaks of fire, but the tracer gave the enemy’s positions away, enabling men to pick their way between the lines of fire and get close enough to throw grenades. It was a strange sensation for the attackers: the machine-gun fire seemed terrific, and Tommy guns, pistols, grenades, and the shouts and screams of men combined in an unearthly din like nothing they had ever heard before. Through the darkness the troops pressed resolutely on, meeting resistance in depth — in ditches, behind hedges, in the top and bottom storeys of houses, in fields and gardens along the road.
Meanwhile, the Maoris, ‘threading their way through trees and around houses, met scattered Germans firing from windows and from behind stone walls’. The tanks provided support by engaging flashes from the houses and covered the infantry’s approach; ‘grenade and bayonet did the rest’. In the darkness, that perennial problem of fratricide caused delay; 7 Field Company had been instructed to fire on any movement and inquire afterwards. It took time to ‘clear up the misunderstanding’ that resulted in a sharp exchange of fire between the engineers and the Maoris of A Company. A Company also suffered casualties from the engineers’ antipersonnel mines scattered in front of their position, but the battalion continued the advance.
Private Hill-Rennie described C Company’s fighting, including the first of a series of actions that led to the award of the VC to Lieutenant Upham:
Suddenly we ran into our first opposition. A Jerry machine-gun nest opened fire on us at a range of 50 yards and they got four of our boys before we could drop to the ground. The man just on my right gave a sharp yelp and I crawled over to see what was the matter. Two fingers of his right hand had been blown off by an explosive bullet. Jerry was using tracer and it was strange to lie there under the olive trees and see the bullets coming. … We waited on the ground and finally the order came for my section to advance and wipe out the nest.
We edged forward on our stomachs until we were within 20 yards of the Nazis, who were tucked away behind a large tree, and then opened fire with our one Tommy gun, one Bren gun and eight rifles. As we kept up the fire the platoon officer [Lieutenant Upham] cautiously crawled round to the side and slightly to the rear of the tree. Although it was still dark, we could tell by the way the Jerries were shouting to each other that they didn’t like the look of the situation. When he got round behind the tree the platoon officer jumped to his feet and hurled three Mills bombs, one right after another, into the nest and then jumped forward with his revolver blazing. Single-handed he wiped out seven Jerries with their Tommy guns and another with a machine gun…. Two machine-gunners managed to hobble away in the darkness, but we got them later.
Maleme Counter Attack 21 and 22 May.
The necessity of platoon actions to destroy every one of the scattered enemy positions, while technically still in the ‘approach march’ phase, consumed hours of vital time. At dawn, when the operation should have been concluding, forward elements of the two Battalions were half way to Pyrgos and only a third of the way to the airfield but they had an hour or so of grace before the Stukas would arrive. In the meantime, however, both sides’ infantry would have to bear a greater quantity of more accurate artillery and mortar fire.
The advance, however, continued against the isolated remnants of 5 Kompanie FJR 2 who were waiting for dawn before exfiltrating to Maleme:
On 22 May 1941, at dawn, units of the 28th Battalion (Maoris) attacked us. Coming from the east, from three different directions, the enemy twice got very close, a few metres away. We defended desperately, but were running out of ammunition. The enemy retired to its positions to reform and launch a third attack. Heavy mortar fire fell on our trenches and enabled the enemy to get closer and closer. We fired to the last cartridge. Our machine gunner was mortally wounded by grenade splinters. He was the last casualty during the battle of Pirgos.
The final attack began. A drunken Maori, bayonet fixed, advanced on me. I saw him and could smell the alcohol. I had my P08 in my hand, but the magazine was empty. I could already feel the bayonet on my stomach, but at the last moment, a young officer put himself between us and pushed the Maori’s rifle away. He took me by the shoulder and said: ‘Come on, boy.’ I was saved! Our adversaries passed their water bottles around, after having got our comrades out of their holes.
Shortly afterwards, the senior officer approached us. He looked at us and asked us in German … ‘Where are the others?’We shrugged our shoulders and one of us answered: ‘There’s only us.’ The officer stood in front of us, looking each of us in the eyes. Tears in his eyes, he saluted us and said ‘All right boys’.
Lieutenant Charles Upham VC.
Lieutenant Farran’s tanks had been keeping pace with the advance through Pyrgos and into Maleme village, providing fire support with his machine guns.
My leading tank had got a little too far ahead, in contravention of my orders and had run into trouble in the village. Coming round the corner of the street, it had run slap into two anti-tank guns in the churchyard. The first shot holed them, mortally wounding the gunner, but he bravely continued to fire until he had despatched one of the enemy guns. The tank tried to turn to get out of its impossible position, but another shell hit them in the middle. The gunner was killed, the commander, Sergeant Skedgewell, was mashed up with the seat, and Cook, the driver, received a serious wound in the foot. What was worse, the tank was set on fire.
It wasn’t long before Farran was himself in trouble. An hour after dawn ‘… now there was all hell let loose in the sky’.
A swarm of Me 109s like angry buzzing bees beset our remaining two tanks. Hot flakes of burning metal flew off the inside of the turrets into our faces. We tried to minimise their dives by halting under a tall tree, but it was of no avail. Finally, like a wounded bull trying to shake off a cloud of flies, I crashed into a bamboo field. In the long green plants we lost them, but a final disaster overtook my tank. The rough treatment had been the last straw for the bogey wheel I had damaged in the barbed wire two days before. It collapsed as though it had been made of cardboard, having also been damaged by a grenade, and there we were as immobile as the Rock of Gibraltar.
The loss of the tanks was keenly felt by the New Zealanders, especially as they were now vulnerable to attack from the air but the battle continued. 20 Battalion had become strung out, D Company fighting along the beach on the right flank, with fewer buildings to contend with, forced their way through the small fields and bamboo windbreaks and reached the eastern end of the airfield but according to Private Hill-Rennie, C Company ‘in the middle sector came up against Maleme village, where Jerry had taken up vantage points in the houses. We slowly blasted our way from house to house, wiping out one nest after another …’. Casualties were high as the Fallschirmjäger sniped at the New Zealanders keeping ‘up a constant, deadly fire’. The Germans did not have things entirely their own way. Lieutenant Maxwell of D Company recalled:
We reached the clear part of the ‘drome all right—there were stacks of aircraft, some crashed, some not — I remember P. Amos saying ‘I’ve carried this anti tank rifle all this way and I am going to have one shot’. He fired two shots into one aircraft and made a mess of it.
The Battalion history recorded that ‘Casualties were heavy: some sections had only one man left. Lieutenant Maxwell then pulled the survivors back about 100 yards to the cover of some bamboos where sections of B Company were found’.
B Company and the scattered remains of D were in an un-enviably exposed position and sought permission from Colonel Burrows to withdraw, which, with mounting casualties, was reluctantly given around 0800 hours. Colonel Burrows set about revising his plan to capture the airfield by coming in behind the Maoris and attacking from Hill 107 once it had been taken. But in the meantime, his battalion had to withdraw from contact around the airfield, which was easier said than done. Some groups of New Zealanders did not receive the order and others failed to read beyond the withdrawal order and missed Colonel Burrows’s revised intent.
Germans pose around a captured Light Tank.
Lieutenant Charles Upham continued to perform beyond the call of duty. An extract from his VC citation reads:
When his Company withdrew from Maleme he helped to carry a wounded man out under fire, and together with another officer rallied more men together to carry other wounded men out. He was then sent to bring in a company which had become isolated. With a corporal he went through enemy territory over 600 yards, killing two Germans on the way, found the company, and brought it back to the Battalion’s new position. But for this action it would have been completely cut off.
Even though a member of 20 NZ Battalion reported that ‘Over on my left I could hear wild shouts coming from the Maori lines as they forged ahead’, 28 Battalion was unable to make much progress through or around Maleme. ‘Ace’ Wood described an incident in the attempt to bypass the village:
All I remember was ordering a number of the boys up the track and jumping off into a bayonet charge in the direction of the stone house. I remember feeling an utter ass because, realising the seriousness of the position with our lads packed like sardines, I shot off yelling to the boys to follow and after going about thirty yards and hearing no yelling, I stopped and looked back – I was on my own. But they followed and we cleaned up what turned out to be a patrol of about Platoon strength. Half the bods we speared and shot in the middle of the ridge, the other half, including the commander, in the vineyard.
Lieutenant Colonel Dittmer’s intention was to outflank the enemy at Maleme and the Maoris fought their way forward on their left flank, until they reached the top of the ridge that ran south towards 21 NZ Battalion’s position. Here they were halted by fire from Hill 107. The Official History commented, ‘All the élan and gallantry of the Maoris and their commander could not get them to the final objective’, in spite of a series of local but spirited charges that were described in the following terms:
The Maoris were going forward crying ‘Ah! Ah!’ and firing from the hip, the Huns with their fat behinds to us running for their lives down the gully and then our job to hold the Maoris in – the ancestral fighting urge was a truly magnificent thing.
Meanwhile, 21 NZ Battalion, who were to join the attack on the left flank could hear the noise of battle drawing closer and they ‘made ready to do its share’. Their task, at a time when it was assumed that the 20 and 28 Battalions would have completed their attacks, was to establish a line from Hill 107 to AMES Ridge, where the now abandoned ruins of the Wireless (radar) Station was located. The enemy in this sector was II/GJR 100 who held the southern flank of the enemy position.
Headquarters Company, acting as riflemen, cleared a few snipers and secured these ruins and A Company then advanced along the road to Xamoudhokhori. ‘The village was entered without much opposition and B Company went forward.’ It was not, however, until they tried to advance beyond the village that enemy resistance hardened. The Battalion’s history continued:
Heavy fire from the direction of Vlakheronitissa killed Captain McClymont and wounded several men before the others were forced to take cover. Lieutenant Yeoman posted Corporal McCabe and his Lewis machinegun section in the tower of the village church and, though targets were difficult to pick up among the trees and grape vines, the enemy fire slackened considerably. Eventually a machine gun got onto McCabe’s section and, when bursts of fire started coming through the open window and ricocheting off the stone walls of the empty room, they had to move.
By 1030 hours, B Company’s advance had come to a halt and A Company was ordered to outflank the opposition but the enemy had blocked all progress by about mid-day. Eventually, a runner arrived from Major Harding at Rear Headquarters in Kondomari, with a message from 23 Battalion, stating that the counter-attack had not gone well. This merely confirmed the existing situation of stalemate. However, this state of affairs did not last long, as the enemy’s ‘flanking patrols, snipers, and mortar fire had forced them [A and B Companies] into the village’. The Gerbirgsjäger, realising that the New Zealanders had withdrawn, followed at a discreet distance and sensing an advantage ‘his fire increased’.
During a lull in the fighting, a Gerbirgsjäger approached carrying a white flag. He delivered a note to Colonel Allen who, after reading its contents, which demanded immediate surrender, ‘screwed it up and threw it in the emissary’s face. The gesture was sufficiently obvious, for the man retired quickly along the way he had come’.
The New Zealand counter-attack had failed. Thanks to a combination of the amphibious threat and delays in moving battalions, the attack had been late in starting, leaving only a few hours of darkness and cover from air attack. The presence of the remainder of 5 and 6 Kompanies II/FJR 2had not been a planning consideration and inflicted serious delay in the approach phase, which was ultimately fatal for the attack. A preliminary recce and clearance operation by 5 NZ Brigade would have paid a healthy dividend. On the other hand, 20 NZ Battalion reached the airfield and one is left with futher ‘what if’ questions.