The Battle of North Africa by Craig DiLouie

Author:Craig DiLouie [DiLouie, Craig]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ZING Communications, Inc.
Published: 2020-02-06T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE STORM

Shivering in pitch black night, Tank Sergeant Austin awoke to howling wind and pounding thunder. Rain crackled along Boomer’s metal skin.

What a downpour, he thought. We’re in for a flash flood.

But it wasn’t rain. He nudged the other men awake. “Sandstorm!”

He could barely hear himself over the static buzz.

A colossal wind blew across the mountains from the Sahara, choking the air with stinging sand. Even nestled as he was under the tank’s big belly, the tiny grains pricked his face. He was already half buried in it.

Austin found his helmet and pulled it on along with his goggles. He spat and raised his bandana over his mouth and nose.

Again, that strange rumble sounded. Only it wasn’t thunder. Somebody out there in the sandstorm was shooting a whole lot of big guns.

Using his helmet, Swanson tapped on Boomer’s belly escape hatch. At least he thought it was Swanson; he couldn’t see a damned thing. He hoped Wade, who was on watch, heard it. They were about to be buried alive here.

The whole thing was so surreal he wondered if he was still asleep, dreaming the whole thing up. A psychiatrist would tell me the sand represents the pressure of command, or some such nonsense, he thought. My mind’s way of telling me I’m carrying too much on my shoulders. As if he didn’t know that already.

The hatch swung open. He felt along the cover to gauge its angle. Not enough room for them all to crawl up and inside, especially the loader with his gorilla build. Austin and Swanson scrabbled at the dirt until they’d dug a deep-enough depression.

Swanson squirmed up through the hatch, his boot clopping the side of his sergeant’s head. Austin tapped Russo’s shoulder to send him up next. Then he shimmied inside and pulled the hatch shut behind him.

The M4’s three interior dome lights cast an eerie glow. Shadows flickered across metal as Clay moved up into the turret to give Austin room. Wade had closed the commander’s hatch to keep out the sand, but it had still managed to dust everything. Outside, the wind and sand scoured the tank’s armor like a giant Brillo pad. Inside, the still air was dim and freezing.

After Austin traded places with Clay in the turret, Wade grabbed his arm. “Did you hear the shooting, Sergeant?”

He nodded.

“Somebody letting off a few rounds?”

Austin shook his head. Too many guns were shooting with random intensity. It sounded like combat. Some vehicles out on patrol had gotten caught by the storm and stumbled into each other, it had to be.

Though it had sounded like far more vehicles than would be out on patrol, and the firing was sustained. Echoes, maybe?

What a damned strange night.

The men settled at their stations and plugged into the com system. Austin tried the radio, hoping the wind hadn’t sent his aerial to Oz.

The other tanks in the platoon checked in. He did the same and clamped his gloved hands over his earphones to hear better.

“Nobody knows what’s happening,” Whitley told his platoon.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.