community, the convoy stopped beyond a group of Quonset huts. Lights were on in all of them and Troy could see enlisted men and officers as they hurried by the windows. A figure, Major Grogan, Troy thought, walked past the end of the van, paced back and forth a moment and then came up to the flap. The motor of the van still was running.
"Troy?" Major Grogan said guardedly.
"Here," Troy whispered.
"We're scheduled to move right on out," Major Grogan said. "That should put us on the perimeter within two hours."
"Good," Troy said. As long as they reached the defense line by midnight, they'd be moved on to their final position near Agarawa before morning. He was heartily sick of the van.
A jeep drove up and its lights shone briefly on Major Grogan before they went out. Major Grogan started to walk away.
"Oh, Major Grogan?" a voice called from the jeep.
"Right," the major said and Troy saw him turn around and walk to the jeep.
"Captain Kennicutt," the officer in the jeep identified himself. "You're with the part of the convoy that's going on?"
"Yes," Troy heard the major say.
"There will be a delay," Captain Kennicutt said. "Some trouble on ahead. We're sending two armored cars with you."
Troy saw Major Grogan glance briefly at the van. "Trouble?" he said, turning back to the jeep.
"Nothing serious, so far as we know," Captain Kennicutt said so softly Troy could scarcely hear him. "Patrol activity apparently. We'll have you out as soon as possible."
Troy swore softly and settled back on the mattress.
"They're taking no chances with this cargo," Moffitt whispered. "I begin to feel as pampered as a warhead."
"It's a lot of damn foolishness," Troy muttered. "We'd get through if they'd turn us loose on our own. All this special treatment just calls Jerry's attention to this van. He's got informers here."
"That's the nice thing about the Arab," Moffitt said cheerfully. "He'll cooperate with anyone."
"You mean he'll sell out to the highest bidder," Troy growled.
"Well, we may be glad of that when we get to Agarawa," Moffitt said.
"It's like they always say, Sarge," Tully said softly. "Hurry up and wait. I'm glad I'm in the Rat Patrol and not the Army."
"Better not let Wilson hear you say that or you'll find out how much of you the Army owns," Troy said, smiling.
"You wouldn't let Wilson get away with nothing," Tully said. "I'm going to hit the sack."
Hitch went up to the mattresses with Tully and Moffitt and Troy wrapped themselves in GI blankets and sat by the flap, listening to the scuffing of wooden boxes as other trucks were unloaded, watching jeeps and cars drive up, men jump out and come hurrying back after a few minutes. The van motor had been turned off and Troy watched the minutes creep around his watch as they sat outside headquarters waiting for the forward motion of the war to catch up with them.
Troy wondered whether it was the same at the enemy staging area beyond Agarawa. Did the methodical German mind produce a more orderly flow of commands and actions as Jerry made his preparations for renewal of the desert warfare? He wondered how many orders had to be issued before the armored cars could be assigned. He knew it wasn't a question of whether the vehicles were available. He'd just seen dozens, maybe fifty or more of them, parked on the other side of town. The question was, who was willing to authorize their use?
It was almost twenty-four-hundred hours and Day Two of the Rat Patrol's mission was approaching when the three-truck convoy, escorted front and rear by armored cars equipped with heavy machine guns and each carrying two-man crews in addition to the driver, started south from Bir-el-Alam across some fifty miles of desert to the southernmost position on the defensive perimeter. The Allied Forces had moved in heavy British Matilda II and medium United States M4 Sherman tanks before the rainy season as stationary artillery pieces. They made a sweeping semicircle around Bir-el-Alam, dug in
"Troy?" Major Grogan said guardedly.
"Here," Troy whispered.
"We're scheduled to move right on out," Major Grogan said. "That should put us on the perimeter within two hours."
"Good," Troy said. As long as they reached the defense line by midnight, they'd be moved on to their final position near Agarawa before morning. He was heartily sick of the van.
A jeep drove up and its lights shone briefly on Major Grogan before they went out. Major Grogan started to walk away.
"Oh, Major Grogan?" a voice called from the jeep.
"Right," the major said and Troy saw him turn around and walk to the jeep.
"Captain Kennicutt," the officer in the jeep identified himself. "You're with the part of the convoy that's going on?"
"Yes," Troy heard the major say.
"There will be a delay," Captain Kennicutt said. "Some trouble on ahead. We're sending two armored cars with you."
Troy saw Major Grogan glance briefly at the van. "Trouble?" he said, turning back to the jeep.
"Nothing serious, so far as we know," Captain Kennicutt said so softly Troy could scarcely hear him. "Patrol activity apparently. We'll have you out as soon as possible."
Troy swore softly and settled back on the mattress.
"They're taking no chances with this cargo," Moffitt whispered. "I begin to feel as pampered as a warhead."
"It's a lot of damn foolishness," Troy muttered. "We'd get through if they'd turn us loose on our own. All this special treatment just calls Jerry's attention to this van. He's got informers here."
"That's the nice thing about the Arab," Moffitt said cheerfully. "He'll cooperate with anyone."
"You mean he'll sell out to the highest bidder," Troy growled.
"Well, we may be glad of that when we get to Agarawa," Moffitt said.
"It's like they always say, Sarge," Tully said softly. "Hurry up and wait. I'm glad I'm in the Rat Patrol and not the Army."
"Better not let Wilson hear you say that or you'll find out how much of you the Army owns," Troy said, smiling.
"You wouldn't let Wilson get away with nothing," Tully said. "I'm going to hit the sack."
Hitch went up to the mattresses with Tully and Moffitt and Troy wrapped themselves in GI blankets and sat by the flap, listening to the scuffing of wooden boxes as other trucks were unloaded, watching jeeps and cars drive up, men jump out and come hurrying back after a few minutes. The van motor had been turned off and Troy watched the minutes creep around his watch as they sat outside headquarters waiting for the forward motion of the war to catch up with them.
Troy wondered whether it was the same at the enemy staging area beyond Agarawa. Did the methodical German mind produce a more orderly flow of commands and actions as Jerry made his preparations for renewal of the desert warfare? He wondered how many orders had to be issued before the armored cars could be assigned. He knew it wasn't a question of whether the vehicles were available. He'd just seen dozens, maybe fifty or more of them, parked on the other side of town. The question was, who was willing to authorize their use?
It was almost twenty-four-hundred hours and Day Two of the Rat Patrol's mission was approaching when the three-truck convoy, escorted front and rear by armored cars equipped with heavy machine guns and each carrying two-man crews in addition to the driver, started south from Bir-el-Alam across some fifty miles of desert to the southernmost position on the defensive perimeter. The Allied Forces had moved in heavy British Matilda II and medium United States M4 Sherman tanks before the rainy season as stationary artillery pieces. They made a sweeping semicircle around Bir-el-Alam, dug in
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