Chapter 6: Alea Iacta Est.

    My team is on the plane. We're parachuting in about 20 clicks south of Tobruk. We've got uniforms. A Kübelwagen, even. Command thought this one out well. Things never go according to plan, though. Fortunately, there isn't some airstrike that's coming in. No real time limit. Other than the fact that we need to have the job done in 48 hours or less. We have a plant on-board the carrier. He let us know the time frame. It's a probable ETC of resupply, plus or minus 8 hours. She's putting on mostly food supplies and fuel, with some repairs of the fuel tanks probably taking the longest.

     There are two planes. One went ahead with the equipment drop. Night drop. One man and a glider with the kuebelwagen. He's not going on the mission with us; he's there to make sure of what happens. A small mountainous outcrop. He fits the part. Abdul Walid, an Egyptian. Wears a turban. A stereotype, perhaps. But a useful deception, definitely. Hopefully he'll be able to blend in. Just hope he makes it out.

    The team is ready. Even Petersen has that look on his face. It won't be long now. The luftwaffe hasn't spotted us yet, nor have their ground forces, or so it seems. We're flying high though. This is only my second drop. First one out of training. The hum of the engines, the rattling of the plane, it all comes back. The claustrophobia. I'm short of breath. A little. Something in me is sinking. I don't think I like flying. Too late now though.

     The man at the front of the plane is yelling over the engines.

     “FIFTEEN SECONDS!”

    My heart is beating like Gene Krupa. American swing music at a time like this. I look out the window, and see some skylights. An ocean of sand. Oh boy, what am I getting myself into. This is bad. Very bad.

     “TEN SECONDS!”

     It shouldn't be rattling this much should it? Those engines look like they could go any minute, the way they're rattling. Rattle rattle rattle. All they do. They fly? I'm amazed. Gotta get out. Oh wait, that's the idea. Get out of an airplane while going around 500 km/h. This is an amazing idea. Greatest idea ever. Whose idea was this?

    “FIVE SECONDS!”

     I sigh. There's no way out but out. I can barely breathe. My lungs close for a moment.

     I feel a hand on my shoulder. It's Jennings. He has a cigar in his hand.

     “For when we make it down there.”

     All that nervousness is still there. But I bite my lip. I squeeze my thumb in my fist. I clench my jaw.

     GO GO GO!

     We're out. I'm out first. This is by far the most frightening and exhilirating thing in my life. Dead of night, we're still going. It's hard to make out those landmarks. But those lights that jerry has, plus that blue one on the ground are enough. Wind's everywhere. Our parachutes are painted black. So are our uniforms. This is the best command can do for camouflage. Once I'm in the air for a few seconds, it isn't so bad. My heart still beats, but... it's not nervousness anymore. I feel alive. Alive and hurtling towards earth like a meteor.

    The team's out.

    When we land, we cut our chutes off with our knives. Gather them, leave them with Walid. He has brown eyes. Black, short beard. Moustache, and a very good one at that. A walrus.

    “My friend,” he says. “I will be here for to-day and the 'morrow. If you survive, you are to meet me here. From here, we go to the south, and attempt to get out of the country. From there, it's up to us how we meet back up with command.”

     He never stopped smiling. I thought this curious. He even had an ornate tea-cup. Maybe he was a man who really appreciated a good cup? Well, no problem with that I suppose. We should all appreciate the finer things in life.