Tomb of the Lost by Noyce Julian

Author:Noyce, Julian [Noyce, Julian]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Julian Noyce
Published: 2011-08-11T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

The tyres skidded to a stop and tiny stones skittered to either side. The Jeep’s driver and three passengers jumped out of their vehicle and surveyed the scene. The small aeroplane was on its roof. It was German. Its markings still clearly visible under all the dust covering it. The wreckage was scattered over a quarter of a mile.

The Jeeps driver sergeant Harry Doyle whistled through his teeth at the wreckage.

“Sarge,” one of his men spoke.

Doyle looked across the desert at the other vehicles. They were part of the Long Range Desert Group. An elite group of men linked to the S.A.S.

“What do you want us to do Sarge?” Albert Simmonds asked again.

“Look for anything salvageable, anything we can use. Water, food, fuel, anything. This didn’t crash that long ago so there may be something. Oh and by the way….” he said as his men had started to move off. They stopped.

“….The crew may still be in there. So be warned it may not be pretty.”

“Sarge!” they all chorused.

“Just grab anything useful,” Harry repeated. He took his Sten gun off his shoulder and placed it on the bonnet of the jeep. He put his back to the vehicle and began to roll a cigarette.

Bert Simmonds and Alan “Dougie” Thomas surveyed the wreckage. The fourth man, George Potts, followed the trail of wreckage searching for anything of use. He kicked pieces of debris, prodding bigger bits with his toe. He reached the end of the trail and looked toward the direction the plane had obviously come. There was nothing else in the desert to indicate what had happened. The German pilot must have just crashed simple as that. George looked back at the plane. Then he eased himself out of his trousers and relieved himself. He shook himself when finished and then slowly made his way back to the wreck. Bert and Dougie picked their way over the ruined aircraft. Bert bent down to inspect a petrol can. The sand around it had recently been wet and when he picked the can up petrol trickled from a bullet hole in its side.

“I think we may have found what brought her down,” he said putting his finger in the hole to show Doug.

Doug lifted up a large piece of ripped canvas revealing the planes skeleton sides. It was riddled with bullet holes. He peered through a gash. On the floor which was in fact the roof he could see spent bullets.

“Someone shot the hell out of her.”

Bert nodded.

“She didn’t just crash then. Or run out of fuel.”

“Let’s take a look inside.”

Bert followed Doug. They had to get down onto their knees to look in through the smashed windows.

“They’re in there all right.”

Bert got to his feet and shouted across at Harry Doyle.

“The crew are still inside Sarge.”

“Any of them still alive?”

“No don’t think so. No signs of movement. Couldn’t see exactly how many. At least three I think.”

Doyle puffed on his cigarette.

“Leave them where they are. The Germans can bury

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