Chapter 12: News.

    Jennings is driving. I'm up front as well. Pyre and Navittas are in the back of the truck. It's damn hard to see out here right now. Our goal isn't so much to get to Walid's place, as to make sure we aren't spotted by the Germans. At this point, we're running at about 80 kph. A damn fine way to get seen. But speed right now is more important. Offroading isn't comfortable. We're going over many a sand-dune. Then a thought occurs to me. We've got German uniforms. If we end up being seen by Walid... oh shit.

     One of our tires blows out. I forgot about the escarpment. We get out.

     “WALID! STOP SHOOTING!”

     “You are late my friend! I shall come down! Do you need assistance? I saw smoke from the harbour from here!”

     “Damn right we need assistance! Klaus has been hit!”

     “Who is Klaus?”

     We get Klaus out. He's breathing, but barely. We get the truck into the Cave.

     Walid sets to work. Didn't know he was a medic.

     “Tut tut! Don't you people know anything about medicine?!”

     We look at him kinda... gawk eyed, I suppose the yanks might say.

     “No.” we say, simultaneously.

     He mumbles a number of what I assume are Arabic profanities. He gets Pyre to help him as a nurse of sorts. I'm glad Klaus is unconscious for this. I would not envy him.

     Navittas, Jennings and I are all waiting outside the impromptu operating cave. All this damn waiting. I look around Walid's cave – there's a radio, a couple beds, and a small armoury. Some food, too, not too much though. Probably a day or two's worth. Makes sense. We've got nothing to do right now. Time to just rest. Exhausting work, war is. Times like this are few. I decide to turn on the radio. It's Mozart.

A few hours pass. We've been asleep. Walid has woken us. Klaus will survive. It's time to debrief him. He's got a cigarette in his hand. Don't blame him.

     “My name's not Klaus, by the way.” he says.

     “Of course it isn't. I'm not Hans either.” I say.

     “If you must know, my name's Reginald Meyers.”

     “Right, Reg. So, did you turn up any juicy details on that carrier?”

     “A number of things. I can't be sure if intelligence doesn't already know this, but, that those aircraft carriers came in is a very bad thing. They're much ahead of schedule. I think Mussolini's been getting those magitech engineers to do quite a bit of work. The good news is, if our navy can hit that shipyard, they lose a large chunk of infrastructure. The bad news is, now there's aircraft carriers to deal with. And you can bet they'll defend that place with more than enough firepower. It'll be tough. As for the Zeppelin itself, it's good to have it out of the way. But those other two, they're going to make life hell. They probably can't strike the Russians, not with the mines of the Dardanelles in the way, but if and when they can, we can assume the Soviet Caucasus is gone. Right now, what we really need, is the US. The soviets can't do it on their own. Or even with us. If Hitler conquers to Moscow, well... we'd better brush up on our German.”

     At this, I'm worried. But he's right. If the Germans conquer Russia, we have completely and utterly lost the war. At least, without the United States, it will be...

     At the end of all that, we hear a news broadcast on the BBC. News from the front. El Alamein has been captured. Cairo's next. I wonder what happened to Laura. I need to know.

     An aura of despair kind of sets in. No one is in a good mood right now. We relax though. Take our pleasure in the little things. We have some chocolate. We have a fair amount of other supplies, too. We make it into something approaching nice. It's sweet, at least. And we're alive. Everyone that matters.

     I decide to break the silence. “For all our dire straights, men... we have done a fantastic job. I'm proud to have served with you. Non nobis Domine, sed nomini tuo da gloriam.”

     We have our rum ration. A toast to the victorious dead. We get a good night of sleep, for once.