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

was greater than first anticipated. At two in the morning, they began their movement forward again. The firing had not ceased from the Allied guns.

‘I can’t believe there’ll be anything left of them at the other side,’ said McLeish. It did seem incredible that anyone could survive such a horrifying torrent of shell, yet Danny remembered the words of his father shortly before he’d left. It was one of the few times he’d opened up about his experiences around twenty-five years before on the Western Front.

‘Our guns blew half the country away and yet they came out of their holes and their trenches and mowed our boys down.’

Archie Andrews smiled grimly at McLeish.

‘Don’t get your hopes up son. They’ve had a lot experience in digging in against that sort of bombardment.’

Danny was sorry to see the young Scot’s face fall, but it was better he was forewarned. There was no question there would be a welcome for them soon. The order came to move. An exchange of looks but no one said, ‘good luck’. They scrambled back inside the tank.

‘Forward,’ said Benson.

The tank didn’t move.

Benson ducked down and glared at PG, ‘Did you hear what I said?’ PG was pressing the starter to little or no avail. He shook his head and turned to Benson. The captain climbed down into the hull and knelt by PG.

‘One more try.

‘Choke?’ suggested Benson.

‘Already on. Anyway, I don’t want to flood the damn thing.’

The tank whined a little, but the engine refused to start. PG and Benson looked outwardly calm, but Danny could feel the tension rise. Outside there were shouts as the other tanks realised they were now stuck. Benson clambered back into the cupola and waved his arms for the other tanks to move around them.

He went out of the hull hatch to inspect the engine. Danny joined him. He wasn’t sure what he could do as PG was more expert but on the principle that two heads were better than one, he thought he might be of some use.

‘Hold the light,’ said PG, opening up the engine. He went straight to the plugs. Removing one after another he gave them a wipe and then replaced them. Then he looked around for any sign of damage. He slammed the hatch shut and indicated to Danny that they return.

There was an air of expectancy inside as PG tried the engine again. It whined a little then finally rumbled into life. PG waited a for a minute, listening intently to the sound. At last he seemed satisfied and nodded to Benson. They set off towards the enemy minefields once more.

-

The tank did not clear the Allied minefields until after 0330 and by four they were on the outskirts of the enemy’s. No one spoke. Even PG’s frequent rants at the pace of progress had died away to be replaced by the sullen silence. Danny was bathed in sweat. Benson lit a pipe and then proceeded to ignore it. McLeish’s leg was still juddering. The silence felt oppressive. Radio contact had been banned until the morning. Their world existed solely within the confines of the tank. Archie Andrews had the glazed eyes of a man lost in his own dark memories.

The incessant noise of the Allied barrage came to a halt around four in the morning. It was a strange silence broken only by the screeching of the tank wheels. It also heightened their sense of vulnerability. If the barrage had served one purpose it was to discourage the enemy from putting their head above the parapet. Now they not only had lost their covering fire, but they were also becoming nicely silhouetted against the rising sun.

By five it was clear to everyone they would not escape the minefield by first light. Danny avoided looking outside now. Light would become their enemy. And still they crawled forward. It seemed impossible that any vehicle could move so slowly. Yet forward they inched. The first machine gun fire became audible as the sky lightened. Then they heard the first crumps of German anti-tank fire.

‘It’s started,’ said Benson. He was sitting with his head and body outside the tank. They’ll want us to disperse soon.’

‘I hope they’ve cleared the minefields then. I don’t fancy taking any bloody chances in them,’ pointed out PG. There was apprehension in his voice but the rest of the tank grinned.

‘Let’s hope,’ replied Benson who did not believe they were going to escape the minefield by the time they were within range of the anti-tank fire. ‘I’ve a feeling it’s going to be pretty sticky for a while, chaps.’

It was.

Later that morning they passed the first signs that the Germans were finding their range. A few tanks from other regiments sat at the side, burning. Black smoke twisted up into the sky providing further help to the enemy on distance and direction. They couldn’t stop though. Their orders were to keep pouring forward. The noise of German shelling was louder now which was enough to start PG off.

‘Bloody sitting targets we are. They can see us clear as day,’ said the Yorkshireman.

‘You forget one thing, PG’ said Danny.

‘What’s that?’

‘We can see them. Difficult to hide one those big eighty-eights, even in a desert.’

‘Good point, young Shaw. Start bloody firing at them then.’

By seven in the morning, they had reached battle positions on a ridge. All of the tanks from 3 RTR had made it through, dispersed and were hull-down on the upslope of a ridge. This made it more difficult for the German gunners. Over the course of the day Danny witnessed the extraordinary start to the battle.

The lane that they’d driven through was packed nose to tail with Allied men and armour. The congestion and the dust cloud it caused was astonishing. It seemed to Danny that one well-targeted German attack from air or gun could have ended the war there and then such was the concentration of Allied men streaming through the narrow lane.

Sappers were busy trying to widen the lane