El Alamein by Jack Murray (spanish books to read .TXT) 📗

‘What are those?’ asked Manfred.

Kleff turned around. Even in the darkness he could see that he was faintly embarrassed

‘Rosary beads,’ replied the young man.

‘I didn’t know you were a Catholic,’ replied Manfred. He realised it was a stupid thing to say. Why would he know? Religion was hardly a regular topic of conversation in the tank. Kleff smiled and shrugged.

‘Not much of a Catholic,’ he admitted honestly. ‘When you do what we do every day it’s hard to have any faith.’

‘So why pray?’ asked Manfred, moving closer to Klef. He was genuinely curious.

‘Catholic guilt, I suppose. It never leaves you even if your faith does.’

‘Try being married,’ said a voice just behind them. ‘Then you’ll know what guilt really is.’

Manfred and the others laughed. They laughed partly because none of them were married but they’d heard the grumbles from other married men. They laughed because they needed to at that moment. More than anything else, they laughed because the comment came from the source least likely to have made a joke.

Basler sat down with them. The flickering lamplight only emphasised the dark shadows under the lieutenant’s eyes.

‘You’re married?’ asked Manfred in surprise. It was strange to ask such a question. Particularly strange to ask it of Basler. Manfred realised just how much his relationship with the lieutenant had evolved over the last year. Perhaps it was a sign that he was beginning to find his voice at last. It was something he’d noticed in himself over the last month. He was one of the senior men in the tank now. It was a good feeling. A reminder to him of how he’d been at training.

‘Was,’ responded Basler.

A silence fell on the group. There could be any number of reasons as to why he was no longer married. Basler sensed that the mood had become heavier.

‘It’s not what you think, although I sometimes wish it were. She wasn’t killed or anything like that. We’re divorced, or soon will be.’

They were all spellbound by the sudden and unexpected revelations from Basler. He asked for some coffee. Keil quickly poured him a cup and they all leaned forward in that universal manner that implores the speaker to continue. Basler sighed. He’d already said too much. But what the hell? Here they were, several thousand miles from home, facing death on a daily basis.

‘Last year, while I was over here, she started seeing someone else. An SS man would you believe? A major who’d managed to avoid any fighting for the last three years. I heard from my sister about what was happening. Colonel Cramer gave me compassionate leave. I’ll never forget his words. You know how he spoke. That growl. He grabbed me by the arm. He had a strong grip. He said, “You go home and beat the shit out of that guy”. Don’t worry Basler. Trust me.’

The group laughed nervously. Then Manfred asked the question on everyone’s mind.

‘Did you?’

A hard look came into the eyes of the lieutenant. He looked at Manfred in the eye and replied, ‘Damn right I did. Put him in hospital.’

The crew broke into a spontaneous round of applause. Basler’s eyes widened and he told them to quieten down. He didn’t seem too angry though.

‘The story doesn’t quite end there, though.’

The group were hanging on his every word by now. He looked at the fire lit faces of each man.

‘When I got back, Cramer called me over. He asked me had I done what he wanted me to do. I said “yes”. He said, “good, son. But your career is over in the SS.” Just like that. My career was over.’ Basler shook his head and smiled. He looked down at the fire and was silent for a moment. Then he lifted his head and said, ‘But you know what?’ Utter silence in the tank. Manfred was holding his breath.

‘It was worth it.’

-

They rolled to a halt for what seemed like the tenth time that day. Inside it was as hot and unpleasant as ever. Manfred wasn’t sure whether to feel pleased that they were stopping or irritated. It only delayed the inevitable contact with the enemy. His mouth was dry. What we would have given for a drink.

‘More minefields?’ asked Manfred.

‘More minefields,’ answered Jentz.

Basler ordered Kleff to make some coffee while they waited for the mines to be cleared.

‘Make it quick, though. The British might send over some planes.’

Kleff didn’t need reminding of this. The nearer they came to the British position at Alamein, the more frequently they encountered the aerial threat of the RAF. Until the Luftwaffe were reinforced, the RAF were the dominant force in the air. Manfred jumped out of the tank along with the others, glad to have a break. Up ahead he saw the pionier Battalion picking their way forward through the rugged stony desert. Manfred once more wondered where all the sand had gone. Could any place on earth have been more God-forsaken than this? He doubted it.

Kleff called to them that the coffee was ready. It was then that they heard the drone. Low at first. That was all they needed. Within seconds they were clambering back into the tank. From somewhere behind they heard guns being fired. The noise grew progressively louder. This wasn’t the coughing whine of the fighters but the deeper groan of the bigger aircraft: the Blenheim Bombers.

In less than a few minutes the air was ripped apart by bombs exploding around them. There was nothing that anyone in the tank could do except pray that they weren’t hit.

They weren’t.

Basler’s nerve held enough to survey the scene from outside the turret. He laughed grimly.

‘I think the RAF may be doing us a favour. They’re bombing their own minefield.’

Manfred stared up at the lieutenant and thought him crazy for even risking being outside. Then it occurred to him that he was probably no safer inside the tank if a bomb landed close enough. He decided to join Basler and peek