1941
Savige sent part of the 17th into Giovanni Berta at 3.20 p.m., at least a half-day ahead of Robertson’s force. The 17th found that once more the Italians had given them the slip by clearing out of the town ahead of them. Such was the reputation of the Australians troops, mythologised by their enemies of a generation ago, that in this case the main Italian force believed discretion was the better part of valour. It gave Savige just enough time to alert 19th Brigade not to shell his occupying brigade as the 19th reached a position 10 kilometres from the town. There was still some fighting needed by 17th Brigade to get rid of lingering enemy strongholds in the town and surrounding fortifications.
News of Savige’s breakthrough and his brigade’s endurance reached staff HQ. Like Berryman, Vasey was keen to see the back of Savige, but even he was amazed at the marching feat. Robertson was usually the brigadier to push his men to the limits for the glory. But Savige had taken the prize.
‘Strewth!’ Vasey exclaimed. ‘Savige has out-Robbied Robbie!’
If Berryman’s plan was to play the brigades off against each other – which may have been the case to a point – it was working, although Robertson’s over-competitive nature and Savige’s determined pride had much to do with the rivalry.
It came to a head as Robertson, miffed at being beaten easily into Giovanni Berta, argued with Savige when 17th Brigade had not cleared the town of all obstacles by 10 a.m. the next day.
‘It would be impossible to comply with that timing,’ Savige said. ‘There’s a tank force in the town and the Ites [Italians] won’t let go.’
‘You should have—’ Robertson began.
‘It will be done by midday when I can concentrate the brigade on it.’
‘You rushed ahead and now you can’t complete the mission,’ Robertson said.
‘My blokes are tired, but have done bloody well,’ Savige responded, ‘and if you hadn’t done your usual pissing about along the route [rounding up stray Italians in small villages], you could have done the job yourself.’
Robertson was white with rage.
But before he could complain again, Savige interjected once more. ‘You can wait outside the town until we have cleared it,’ he said. ‘There’s no room for two commanders here. I am [the commander] on the spot. It will take you two minutes to return to your HQ.’
Robertson departed, more furious than ever.1
***
Savige had done better in this mission, but there were lingering tensions between him and some of his fellow officers in the other brigades. On 4 February, unbeknown to each other, both Robertson and Savige put in for extra motor transport for their brigades, to better chase the retreating enemy. Vasey once more chose Robertson for this requisition, which infuriated Savige, who had now realised that he was being regularly ‘shafted’. This left 17th Brigade mostly having to march, while the 19th had plenty of vehicles.
Savige was personally disappointed, but he was mainly distressed on behalf of his hard-slogging troops. However, the diggers rallied behind him, with the 2/5th’s Lieutenant Colonel King telling him: ‘Every man in the Brigade knows what the racket is . . . and they are behind you.’2
***
The 6th Division moved west along the coast and the inland road in pursuit of the Italian 10th Army as they evacuated their positions. Soon the towns of Apollonia, Cyrene, Slonta and Barce were under Australian control. The 19th Brigade were ordered to head directly west (inland and south of the coast) and cut the road 110 kilometres south of Benghazi. At Sidi Saleh and Beda Fomm they encountered a strong force of 90 tanks, which they trapped and destroyed. The 19th then captured Benghazi and did everything but end the (first) Libyan Campaign.
The successful operation allowed the British to take up a defensive posture in the Libyan region of Cyrenaica and focus on their next campaign, in Greece.
On 18 February 1941 Savige was ordered to command a defensive line in case of trouble from a still big Italian force further west in Tripolitani. His force consisted of 2/7th Battalion, a British armoured car regiment (the King’s Dragoon Guards), 2/3rd Field Regiment and various troop contingents. This was now the only Allied force west of Derna.
Savige considered all the captured maps of the area. Discovering a vast marsh 80 kilometres south, he reconnoitred the area. He was driven to the edge of the bog.
‘Tanks will never cross that,’ Savige said. ‘We’ll push our defensive line here.’
As they were leaving, a squadron of planes flew low overhead. Savige used his binoculars to observe them.
‘They’re German,’ he muttered.
‘They’re probably just doing reconnaissance,’ one of his staff commented.
‘Agreed, but where there is smoke, there is fire,’ Savige replied. ‘There were twelve planes. I wouldn’t mind betting that Fritz [Germany] is either in the area already or planning an invasion very soon.’
Two days later, on 20 February, the King’s Guards were running motor patrols west of El Agheila when they too noted German planes. Moments later they were caught in a firefight with German armoured cars.
The King’s Guards’ commander reported back to Savige.
‘Are you certain they were German?’ Savige asked.
‘Yes,’ was the response. ‘The vehicles have six or eight wheels. Very distinctive.’
‘Anything else?’
‘We were close enough to hear them shouting. I speak German. They were German all right.’
‘Were they trying to hide their identity?’
‘I would say so. There were no [armoured car] markings. No flags.’3
Savige informed I Australian Corps command that he believed the Germans were preparing a big force to invade Libya.
There was an astonishing response from Brigadier Rowell, who annotated Savige’s report with: ‘the rigours of a long campaign appear to have affected Brigadier Savige’s judgement.’
This inferred that he’d had a breakdown, or was under severe strain and ‘seeing things’. But Savige was on the spot, and as acute an observer of military manoeuvres as anyone in the Australian force.
He received a letter from a senior staff officer stating that no German armour was in the region. Unspecified intelligence reports suggested that none could be brought to Libya at that time.
Savige was infuriated, but resigned to the obvious fact that he was being isolated and victimised by a group among the staff officers. There was a certain level of animus directed at him, and also at Blamey, who had chosen him. If Savige could be brought down then it would reflect badly on the 2nd AIF Commander. Several officers including Vasey, Rowell, Robertson and Berryman were clearly waiting in the wings for a major Blamey blunder, or an accumulation of mistakes. If that occurred, each one would be jockeying for control of the 2nd AIF.
***
Savige asked for supplies of anti-tank mines, which he wanted laid off the roads beyond his defensive line. He received them, but not before critical comment that he was ‘going too defensive’, again with the inference that he was overworked and not taking the ‘strain’ well. (Later the mines proved most effective against the German tanks.)
Within two weeks, Savige’s assessment proved correct as 500 enemy vehicles were moved up to the Libyan frontier. Mackay now agreed with Savige that a joint German–Italian attack was possible. German air attacks began featuring the dreaded Stukas.
The Stuka was a dive bomber and ground-attack aircraft, and had first been used during the Spanish Civil War five years earlier. It was a two-man plane with a pilot and rear gunner. All the Machine Gun Battalion knew what to look for. The Stuka had inverted gull wings, fixed-spanned undercarriage, and the infamous ‘Jericho trumpet’, or wailing siren. It was the sound as much as anything that frightened its targets. The Stuka had some innovative designs, including pull-up dive brakes that ensured the aircraft recovered from its attack even if the pilot blacked out from the high acceleration. It was sturdy, accurate and very effective against large ground targets such as long convoys, or even smaller ones such as motorcyclists.
In early March, Savige was travelling in a small reconnaissance convoy of three vehicles. They had just reached a village on the defence line when four Stukas came out of the sun, their frightening high-pitched whine screaming at full volume.
Everyone jumped from the vehicles and dived for shelter against a wall in a courtyard. Six bullets pinged into the bonnet of Savige’s Humber station wagon. The Stukas climbed high and zeroed in again from a different angle, causing the Australians to run 20 metres to the opposite wall.
The Germans fired their guns and climbed for a third attack. In the rush to a third wall, Savige tripped and fell, leaving him as a ‘good’ target. He lay spread-eagled on his front as bullets sent dust flying.
When the Stukas departed, Savige jumped to his feet unhurt.
‘How would that be on your bloody tombstone?’ he chuckled. ‘Shot in the backside by Stukas!’4
The others laughed at this typical Savige response to danger. Yet later, in private, he reflected on Psalm 91. It seemed to be working for him again in this war.
***
A week later, Savige and his 17th Brigade were back in Amariya Camp and preparing for a new campaign, in Greece. At this time German battle commander Ernst Rommel’s Afrika Corps began its advance. Its forward guard battalions had reached Benghazi.
Savige had been correct about the Germans invading Libya with a formidable army. It was another arrow in his quiver when taking on his detractors among the staff officers. And in further vindication of his performances, he was appointed a CBE, Commander of the Order of the British Empire.
The citation read in part: ‘Brigadier Savige . . . showed fine control, organisation and leadership [at Bardia, Tobruk and Derna], culminating in an excellent example of initiative and drive, which broke the enemy flank west of Derna thus accelerating the enemy retreat and final defeat.’
The award had Blamey’s pawprints all over it.