‘What do I have to do?’
‘Get back into the compound, get hold of everybody who has authority such as NCOs and warrant officers, and inform them of what we intend to do. The Italians will be busy, I expect, but we’ve got to get to that compound before they move those friends of yours away, as they undoubtedly will when they start to retreat. But they’ll also be rather busy with their battle so there shouldn’t be many of them running the place and, with the aid of the LRDG, we ought to be able to overwhelm them. Understood?’
‘Understood.’
‘Your people must do as they’re told.’ Knowing the Australians, Dampier didn’t have much hope that they would, but it was worth a try. ‘They’re to form up in an organized group, so we can handle them, not scatter all over the desert. Think you can make them understand that?’
‘Yeah. I reckon I can.’
‘How will you get in?’
‘Same way I got out. Dig a hole under the wire.’
‘I think there’s no need for that,’ Rafferty put in quietly. ‘We can supply you with a pair of wire-cutters. By permission of Major Scarlatti. Clutterbuck pinched ’em. They were our first proud acquisition.’
The LRDG’s vehicles reappeared in the middle of the afternoon. Coffin’s face was full of smiles.
‘The message’s gone through,’ he announced. ‘They’ll act on it, have no fear. They’ve learned to rely on our lot. Now for our German friend. We’ll be near the end of the wadi. Think he’ll come?’
‘I’m sure he will,’ Morton said. ‘He’s enough of an artist to insist on finishing his picture.’
When Dampier mentioned the freeing of the prisoners, Coffin was all in favour. ‘Oh, Christ, yes,’ he said. ‘We’ll help with that. Two hundred Aussies are always worth rescuing. They’ll fight anything – even their own side – and they’ll be so bloody mad at the Italians for capturing them you’ll only have to shove rifles in their hands and they’ll go through ’em like a knife through butter all the way to Tripoli.’
They surveyed the wadi carefully and Coffin chose a point where he could park his vehicles without them being seen, but where he could see the lip of the desert from where Morton was to give the signal that Erwin had arrived.
When Erwin appeared, they saw he was in a single car and with only Stracka to accompany him. There were no luxuries this time, no sign of the hamper or wine, just the easels sticking out among the equipment stuffed into the rear seat. As the car moved down the wadi, Morton gestured to Clegg. ‘This we must see,’ he said.
Moving further down the wadi, they saw Erwin’s car reach the open end. Then, as the valley widened, the Mercedes put on speed and began to head for the patch of pink gravel. As it did so, two Chevrolets, hidden until that moment by the ridge, came into view, one on either side. Putting on speed, they appeared alongside the Mercedes, and Morton and Clegg saw Erwin’s head turn quickly to right and left. Then another Chevrolet appeared and, a second later, a fourth shot ahead of the whole group and swung in front of the German car, exactly as it had when it had stopped the Ratbags. The Mercedes slid to a halt and they saw Erwin rise to his feet in the rear seat. Stracka rose, too, then they saw them slowly lift their hands above their heads.
By the time Morton and Clegg reached them, the Germans had climbed out of the car and were standing together, their hands on their heads, covered by a plethora of guns. Coffin was just scrambling from his truck and walking back to join Grady.
Erwin saw Morton and frowned. ‘You are in on this?’ he said.
Morton smiled cheerfully. ‘Oh, yes,’ he agreed. ‘I’m on their side.’
Coffin had stopped in front of Erwin now. He looked puzzled. ‘Who’s this?’ he demanded.
Clegg smiled proudly. ‘Erwin.’
‘No, it isn’t. He’s taller than Erwin.’
‘That’s Erwin,’ Morton insisted. ‘Ask him.’
‘It isn’t bloody Erwin!’ Coffin snapped.
‘It’s the only Erwin I know.’
‘Well, it’s not our Erwin.’
‘Which bloody Erwin were you expecting?’
‘Uncle Erwin. Rommel. The commander in chief of the bloody Afrika Korps. The big boy. We’ve been fighting the bastard ever since March.’
‘We haven’t,’ Morton said. ‘We’ve been singing to him. And you didn’t say “Rommel”. You said “Erwin”.’
Coffin glared. ‘Everybody calls him Erwin. Or Uncle Erwin. Or Harry Rommel.’
‘We didn’t.’
‘You must have been in bloody purdah!’
‘It’s a bit like that in Cairo.’
‘And who the Christ is this?’
‘General Erwin. General Max Erwin. You said you wanted Erwin. I said I knew where Erwin was. If you’d said Rommel we might have got somewhere.’
Coffin seemed a little uncertain what to do next. ‘Well,’ he said, looking at the Germans, ‘this feller’s not a very big fish.’
‘Thank you,’ Erwin said coldly. ‘I am flattered.’
‘If he’s not a very big fish,’ Clegg asked, ‘why not throw him back?’
Coffin gave him a sour look. ‘I suppose,’ he said, ‘that he’ll have to do. After all, we didn’t come out here just to get Rommel. We just happened to be around here after the airfield when we heard he was coming to Zuq so we thought we’d have a go. We might as well bugger off with him and his pal now. After all, he is a general, and that isn’t bad. We’ll get rid of him and come back to help you lot with those Australian prisoners of yours.’ He gave Morton a sharp glance. ‘I suppose they are Australians, aren’t they, not Austrians or something?’ He looked at Grady and shrugged. ‘Oh, well,’ he said, ‘I suppose you could call it a decent day’s work.’
All the same, as he looked at Erwin, he didn’t feel too sure. With the whole Italian army to choose from, they’d swooped on a lot of dressed-up actors and now they’d got
