El Alamein Jack Murray (booksvooks TXT) 📖

days now that the Germans are going to spring an attack. We don’t know where or when but they’ve been saying it could happen any time now. I think they’re right. I can feel it. More than that, I have a gut feeling that Jerry will attack tomorrow. Everyone is to be up at one hour before first light and we’ll take up the battle formation I reconnoitred a few days ago. Get a good night’s sleep. That’s all.’

A few hours later, Roberts was shaken gently at first then more forcefully from his sleep. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the harsh light from the torch. Captain Peter Burr, Roberts’ adjutant, looked down at his commanding officer.

‘Yes, what is it, Burr? Bad news?’

‘Yes, sir. You were right, they’re on the move.’

‘What time is it?’

Burr glanced at his watch, ‘After three, sir.’ He didn’t have to add, ‘in the morning’.

Roberts sat up in the bed and rubbed his eyes. He focused on his adjutant and asked, ‘Where are they now?’

‘Heading south, sir. They’ve turned off the Trigh Capuzzo and our best guess is they are making for Bir Hacheim.’

‘Remind me what we have there?’ Roberts still in the process of waking from his sleep.

‘4th Armoured, sir. Not all of it,’ came the reply.

‘Against?’

‘The 15th and 21st Panzer armies, we believe. Basically the whole of the Afrika Korps. Perhaps some Italians, too.’

‘How the hell did our intelligence miss a bloody big army moving in this direction? They’ve had planes flying over us for days now. Even Ultra at Bletchley knew something was in the offing.’

‘The men are ready, sir.’

‘At least we made sure of that,’ replied Roberts jumping out of his camp bed. He was already dressed. Then he stopped for a moment. Just how ready were they? The answer to this question was barely a few hours away. He cast aside any anxiety he was feeling.

‘Very well, let’s give Jerry the welcome he deserves.’

-

If there’s one thing less pleasant than having to wake up early when in the middle of a deep sleep, it’s waking up early when you’ve barely managed to sleep at all. It had been one of those nights for Danny and he was distinctly displeased. Just a few weeks of camp and he knew that he’d softened a little.

At least he was no longer the junior member of the crew and therefore designated Brew master. That honour went to the Scotsman, McLeish. It was still dark and the leaguer was alive with the sound of shouting, some laughter and even some engines being tested.

Danny wondered if the earlier start was significant. He’d noticed that Captain Benson had been quite tight-lipped the previous night after the senior staff meeting. No one had asked why but the looks around the crew all suggested they’d also noticed the sombre mood of the tank commander.

Benson wasn’t around for the breakfast which added to the sense that something was in the offing. There was just a hint of distant rumbling in the air. Danny felt his skin tingle as a number of possible reasons presented themselves.

‘What’s happening, sir?’ asked Danny when he saw Benson finally arrive back at the tank. A few of the other tanks were already departing. What had started off as an early start was unquestionably something more now. Benson’s face was grim.

‘The enemy has made a long march through the night. We believe they are not very many miles away.’

This revelation, while hardly a surprise, was still enough to provoke a few colourful reactions from the men around the campfire. Benson allowed them to let off steam for a minute before raising his hand for silence.

‘I think we can be fairly certain the show is starting again. We’ll see action soon. Very soon I suspect if that sound in the distance is anything to go by. Just remember a few things. You’ve been training for this over the last few months. You are ready. We also have something that Jerry is not expecting.’

Benson glanced towards the big Grant tank.

‘No longer are we outmatched by superior armour. This time we’re the ones with the better tanks. If we use our advantage, we can inflict a lot of damage on Jerry today. Enough to make him stop and think.’

Danny listened and felt heartened by what he was hearing. The misgivings he’d had about the new tank began to recede as he considered the possibility that it was better than what they were up against. How true this was didn’t matter at that moment. Benson had shrewdly guessed that the sudden arrival of the enemy was likely to put the wind up everyone a little. His words not only provided badly needed solace they instilled, once more, a belief that this time they would be the hunter.

There was an unreal air in the camp. It was dark and everyone was up but there seemed no urgency. Danny inquired of Benson why they weren’t packing up and engaging the enemy. Benson held his hands up in the universally recognised symbol of ‘search me’.

‘Eat your breakfast. We’ll be mixing it soon enough. I suspect the powers that be haven’t quite decided if this is a feint or the big push.’

Danny nodded. It made sense. Rommel was well known for just this sort of artifice. He spied a number of men walking away from the camp carrying spades. They came rushing back seconds later when the shouts started. It was just after seven. The mad scramble had begun.

They quickly finished their breakfast. The sound of engines growing louder in the distance added a certain alacrity to finishing their meal. It made the arrival of a number of sergeants, shouting at everyone, an irrelevance. Everyone could hear the enemy now. An ominous deep rumbling on the horizon. It sent a chill through Danny. He threw on his overcoat and scarf before helping pack the tents.

The sun was up now and reports were filtering through from the Light Squadron who’d set