Three Kings

O’Connor had heard him coming when he listened to the opening rounds of the battle, and he knew he did not have enough men and material in hand to stop the German attack, and the prospect of any further advance on his part to Tripoli was now out of the question. So he turned what was left of the 2nd Armored Division over to GeneralNeame and answered the call from Wavell to fly in to Alexandria for a conference. The German fighter that took a bite out of his plane en route would prevent his timely RSVP, but when the plane went down, he was thankful that he had survived without any serious injury beyond a bruised ego. He seldom gave that any mind, and now his only thoughts were set on how to make contact with friendly British patrols before the Italians found him. He knew they still had a garrison at Giarabub, but also that there were elements of the British 6th Australian Cavalry atSiwa.

The storm that had helped to bring down his Blenheim was still raging, but he thought it best to get away from the wreckage of the plane, even though it was the only shelter available. He and the only other survivors, the pilot and navigator, set about gathering up supplies, flares, water, food, and they took one solid meal in the plane, waiting out the worst of the sandstorm.

“The Italians might have seen us go down,” said O’Connor, “but I doubt if they’ll be too keen on investigating a wrecked plane in this mess. That said, when the storm abates, we move out on foot.”

“But the radio is gone now, sir,” said the pilot. “How will anyone know where we’ve gone if we can’t report?”

“Where else would we go our here but south toSiwa?” O’Connor was squinting at a map, his eyes still full of energy. “But I think we’ll come at it by a roundabout way. If I deduce that’s our only play, I won’t put it out of the question that the Italians might also. So when we move, we’ll head east first, towards that escarpment at the southern end of theQatarra Depression. From there we can work our way south toSiwa. And I’m afraid we shall have to move while the wind is still up, gentlemen. That way it will blot out any tracks we might leave. One man can carry the survival tent and cooking kit. The others lug all the food and water we can carry. I’m not sure where we are, but I can damn well navigate if I have to. You can back me up, Mister Monk.”

Isaac Monk was the navigator, and he nodded. “I’ve a decent sun compass and time piece, sir.”

“Monkey will get us where you want to go, General,” said Bowers, the pilot. “Just you lead the way.”

It was tough going at first, as they left before dawn with the wind up, as O’Connor suggested. They soon found that walking in the desert was no easy task. When the ground was sandy, it got into their boots and shoes, and their feet would sink into it to the point where they felt they were struggling through mud. When it was stony and hard, the rocks presented sharp, jagged threats, and it was tough on ankles or knees, particularly when they would stumble or fall, which happened all too often.

As they trudged along, O’Connor took the lead, tapping out a brisk pace with his riding crop as he went, seemingly tireless. Six hours later the other two men were near exhaustion, and so the party stopped to rest and take some light nourishment. O’Connor wanted another six hour march before they set camp for the night, but a second storm seemed to be brewing. He decided to press on, until the blowing sand forced them to stop two hours after mid-day and rig out the survival tent.

There should have been plenty of daylight left, but the skies were blood red with the desert dust, and it almost seemed that night would be upon them soon. They could barely see in any case, the sand stinging their faces and eyes. That night they rode out the storm, huddled in the cold tent while the conference at Alexandria concluded, and the fleet put out to sea. They were still holed up when the KA-40 was also forced to land, but some hours later O’Connor thought he heard the approach of vehicles.

“Look smart, gentlemen,” he said rousing himself. “There’s movement out there. I’m afraid we’ll have to move too, and quickly. But at least knock down the tent. That way it won’t be seen if these are Italians, and I think they must be.”

So they moved on foot again, with no time to break down and stow the tent beyond knocking it flat. But soon the sound of vehicles grew louder, and they were forced to go to ground, hoping they had not been seen. But the well schooled eyes of men who were out there looking for them had found their quarry, and it soon became apparent that they were going to be discovered.

“Stand ready men. We’ve only the three side arms, but if things go the wrong way here, keep a steady hand and make every shot count.”

Thankfully, he did not have to lead this last little defensive action, for when the vehicles appeared he saw they were the jeeps of the Long Range Desert Group. The lead driver waved as they came up in a billow of dust.