We reached the outskirts of El Alamein at about 2 in the morning. We did so intentionally. We had no headlights. It was eerie driving up to the city like that. Numerous spotlights spotting for aircraft... the occasional highlighted 88... it painted a very bleak picture. We knew it'd be suicide going straight in. so we didn't. Instead, we looked at an alternative: driving through the freezing cold desert, and trying to find any remnant of the task force. Well, we found it. About 50 miles from the city, just outside the range of the German heavy artillery, we found medical tents. The first things we found were the blackened hulks of German and British tanks. A bit beyond them were enough tents for about two hundred people.
The cowards have fled. Our cowards. All that remain are the nurses and the wounded. The good nurses. Some of them fled too. Can't blame them, but this is atrocious. The nurses have guns. Deadly nurses.
“That's far enough!” a familiar voice yelled.
I get Walid to stop the car. The boys do the same with the truck.
We come out with our hands up. Unarmed.
That red hair I'd spot anywhere.
I saw the look on her face when she dropped the gun. Somewhat teary eyed. We ran towards each other.
We embraced.
“What happened?” Laura asks me.
“We won. We shouldn't have, but we won.”
I tell her our story.
The boys and I all crowded around a table. Laura put on a kettle. It's still late.
“We can't stay here, Laura.” I say. “And we can't take all the men with us.”
“Some of them shouldn't even be moved.” she says. “When the army retreated, they took as many men as they could. They only kept those who could fight. They left us nurses here to look after these men. At least jerry's got a good track record here with how they treat prisoners. Why the hell are you here? I never expected to see you again.”
“I'm here for you.” and I whisper the other reason into her ear. Don't want the others hearing.
She looked at me. She looked at the boys. She looked at the nurses, and finally at the wounded.
“I never knew Petersen” she says. “But I can't see how you justify running now.”
“Laura, we've lost. El Alamein is a stone's throw from Cairo. They get Cairo and we're done. Five men won't make a difference. We took down one aircraft carrier, it's true. But we'll never have another shot at that again. That's a job for the navy. And the navy's shot to hell. I can assure you, we'll keep on fighting. One way or another. But not here.”
“You've lost your senses. Where else could you fight? Russia?! You'd die before you get there! Any other way I see it the entire Mediterranean's surrounded! You'd be shot by the British, shot by the Germans, shot by the Italians, shot by the Spanish, not to mention the Germans! Where is there to go?!”
“Southern France.” Meyers pipes in. “From there, we see where else we can go, and what we can do. There is a resistance movement there. They've saved many downed British pilots. And it isn't occupied by the Nazi's. Seems like quite the gap.”
At this, laura relented somewhat. “How in hell are you going to get there?”
“Boat. There are a few fishing villages nearby, and I suspect there might be large enough vessels to get us there.” Walid says. “I have a friend who was in the French merchant marine. He helps out the British on occasion. He might still be there. If not, a fishing boat may be available. Maybe a miracle at Alamein is possible.”
“This...” laura starts. “I don't like this. I can't say you're wrong. I know what the Germans did to our soldiers earlier, and we've lost so much... I don't think we can resist theme here for more than ten minutes, should they invade, and we all know they will. I think... I think you're right. If I may say so, however... you must get rid of those uniforms.”
At that, we turned in for the night. For a whole three hours of sleep.
Navittas woke me up. Along with the rest of them. A German column was approaching. There was no time. I got Laura and the rest of the men into the Truck and Jeep. I floored it out of the medical camp. We couldn't load any of the wounded. And we couldn't tell the nurses. It's an ulcerous feeling in my gut. This is the worst. Leaving a man behind is bad enough. Leaving more than a hundred men to the Nazi's... that's the worst. I'll never forgive myself for this, I know it. Soldiers aren't supposed to leave compatriots behind.
We head for the coast. Another dawn. Another death. Red sky at morning. Walid is on the radio. He's speaking French. Almost certainly code. I hear a bass voice coming through it. Walid's moustached face perks up. “My friends, we are golden. He's ten miles off the coast. If we're lucky, we may make it yet.”
“Make your own luck” Pyre says. “Get us there, sir.” he says to me.
I give him a nod.
A long way down a hill we go. Right to a beach. Right to a small fishing village. I just hope they aren't Nazi sympathizers. We see the ship. There's a rowboat coming ashore. To a dock on the eastern side of this village. Just a small hamlet. About 50 or so inhabitants. And there's an APC behind us. A German halftrack.
They're in range right now. But they haven't fired. I'm wondering why. I tell everybody to stay low. I keep the jeep immediately in front of the truck. And that's when things all go to hell.
We've run out of gas.
I order everybody out. We don't have much in the way of guns or ammo. Not that we don't have it, but more that we couldn't get to it in time. I've got a schmeisser. Navittas and Pyre have a couple of bolt action rifles. Walid has a Sten gun. Meyers has a revolver of some kind. Pathetic. And Jennings has a single drum for his MG 34. They've got better guns, and more of them. I order Pyre to switch with Jennings. Get him firing incendiaries. We we aim for the halftrack's gunner, then the driver. We manage to get them both down. But then the men come out. It's a stalemate. We can't move, but neither can they. We can't stay here. They've undoubtedly called for backup. Or worse, artillery. So, I order the boys to do the one thing I wished I'd never have to. Split up, multiple directions, get to the town. Groups of two, 20 feet between them. Prone every five seconds. I give them covering fire. Laura and me, we're the last to go.
I order Navittas to get up and go. He goes about ten feet, then gets shot in the leg. I run over and carry him while the rest of the men give covering fire. Then I hear 'out.' from several of them. Nearly there. There's only five of them left. We enter the town. Town for salvation. And then I notice the blood on my face. Some of it's mine. Some of it's Navittas'. I've lost my ear. Navittas has been shot through the femur. Can't think about it. Gotta keep going. Hand's still on Laura. She's still there. She's still there. We get to the dock. The Frenchmen are firing at the last of them. We're alive. We're all alive. My god, we're alive.
End of book 1. I'm taking a break from this serial for a while. There will be a new one coming up soon. So stick around, the whole 4 people who read this.
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