Chapter 9

Shaun sat by the front wheel as the men prepared their bedrolls, smoking.

His mind drifted back to Kenya and the Crater. His could hardly remember his parents. They had died in an aircraft accident returning from Cape Town when he was five. Grandmother Susan and Granddad David had raised him. His grandfather had taught him to ride and shoot. The happiest times of his life had been out hunting with his grandfather and N’debi, the giant Matabele who was a dear friend of his grandfather’s.

He had spent days down on the game Reserve with Uncle Sultar and Aunt Yasmin. He would listen to the stories of the battles that had occurred in India and here in Kenya that Uncle Sultar and his grandfather had fought in. Shaun had grown to idolise his grandfather, and when he had died suddenly, he was devastated. He had been at University at Cape Town when he received the news.

He had flown back immediately. They buried Grandfather behind the stables alongside the grave of Kahn, a horse that had saved his grandfather from a leopard attack.

He had been left in the will all his grandfather’s guns and weapons who, like Shaun, had been left handed. Aunt Vicky, his father’s sister, had moved in with his grandmother, her husband had died of a heart attack early in their marriage. Her two children had grown up and moved away from the Crater. His grandmother never really got over the loss of her husband and died a few years later.

He smiled to himself recalling the memories as he stubbed out the cigarette and unrolled his bedroll.

The next morning the men were busy sweeping out the spent cartridge cases from the trucks and burying them at the back of the cave. Jack had sent three men up to the top of the wadi to keep lookout whilst others added to the cave’s camouflage. A group had gone to the entrance of the wadi and moved boulders to impede any vehicles trying to find their way up it.

Shaun sat with the other officers around him. “We will need to keep the men busy. After a few days in here they’ll start to get restless but we must wait until the heat’s died out before returning to base.” He left them to check on Alf, finding him sitting up drinking tea. “How do you feel today Alf?”

Alf smiled, “A bit sore Boss, but I should be up and about when the lads have done all the work,” he said with a grin.

Later when the lookouts were relieved, they reported that they had seen aircraft to the west and southwest. Some had been Ju87 Stukas, they said. Also dust clouds of fast-moving vehicles heading down the tracks to the south and southwest.

He had a long talk with Jack, outlining a plan to have kit, weapons, and truck inspections. The truck that lost in the inspection would be responsible for policing the cave and latrine duty for a 24 hour period and the officer of the truck would also be subject to the inspection. The best truck turnout would get lookout duty, it being a welcome relief from the confinement of the cave.

Jack had smiled wolfishly at the plan, his Guard training coming to the fore.

Shaun announced about the inspections at the evening meal, saying Sargent Blake would be the judge. Jack said there would be a kit inspection at thirteen hundred hours the following day. The look of horror on all the faces was laughable.

The next morning men were washing their clothes, shaving or repairing their clothes. At the appointed hour they lined up alongside their trucks and Sargent Clark began his inspection.

Bill’s Gloria lost through missing buttons and Tim’s Jane was awarded lookout duty. Sargent Blake announced that the next day would be personal weapons inspection. Bill’s patrol started picking up cigarette butts, used matches paper and empty ration tins, much to the enjoyment of the other patrols.

Shaun watched the proceedings with satisfaction. It gave the men something to do to relieve the monotony of the cave.

On the fourth day, the lookout reported that a truck carrying Italian soldiers had pulled up at the entrance of the wadi. They had gotten out and started to examine the boulders that blocked the route through the wadi. After some heated conversation they had returned to the truck and prepared a meal. After which they played cards or slept, eventually leaving after staying five hours.

“The lazy buggers,” Tim chuckled, “they’ll report back that the wadi is clear.”

By the seventh day no aircraft were reported, the same happened the following day.

Shaun gathered the officers and sergeants around him. “I think the time has arrived for us to go home.” he smiled, “We may need to use this cave in the future, so let’s make sure there’s nothing left to say we have been here. Just before sunset have the boulders moved to give us free passage. We will be travelling at night. It’s a full moon and the first 250 miles is fairly smooth running until we hit the dunes. We’ll find a place to hole up in before daylight and set off again at sunset.” He looked around the faces for any comment, seeing only smiles.

The first two nights they made good progress over relative clear ground, with Titch following the headings Prof gave him on the Mk8 tank compass. But by the third night the ground became more difficult to traverse by moonlight and Shaun gave the order to halt.

“We will have to travel by daylight from now on,” he told the others, “so keep a good watch out.”

Before descending from ridges or dunes, the road ahead was scouted on foot. On the fifth day from the top of a ridge they saw a small camel caravan of Bedouin below them and the men had Kar98 German rifles slung over their shoulders. They waited until they were long gone before proceeding.

By now they were skirting sand dunes and their speed had dropped to 5miles an hour in order to traverse the rock and reduce the dust clouds of their passing. At mealtimes the usual grumbles about bullied beef took place. “What I wouldn’t give for a nice chicken,” Bill exclaimed.