 
### The Army Chronicles

### Book 3

### Lesotho Crossing

### By

### CR Delport

* * * * *

PUBLISHED BY:

CR Delport at Smashwords

Lesotho Crossing

Copyright © 2014 by CR Delport

### Cover Art:

Jaco Moolman

Special Thanks:

Schalk Jacobs

### Foreword

From 1966 to 1994 it was compulsory for white South African males to do military service. As part of their military service, it was required to defend the country against any thread from both inside and outside South African borders. This also led to the South African border war, which spanned from 1966 to 1989. Many young men gave their lives for their country, and many who returned from border duty were so traumatized, they were unable to talk about what they experienced. Even to this day, it is impossible for most of those who served in the military and doing border duty, to share with their friends and families as to what they experienced.

These books are my attempt to take the reader on a journey to give an insight of what these young men experienced. From basics, all through their service, and then border duty, or in some cases, the bush war in Angola. Although the characters in this book are fictional, most places and events that follow are not, and are based on what really happened. There were many different military units, but our story focuses on 1 South African Infantry Battalion, and our characters' subsequent deployment to 61 Mechanized Battalion. They started their National Service as boys, but finished as men.

**Author's Note:** I have added a glossary at the end of the book. If you encounter a word that you don't understand, please check there.

Chapter 1

For me, the ride on the bus to 1 South African Infantry Battalion in Bloemfontein was a quiet one. We were on our way back to base after a weekend at home, a weekend that rocked my world.

For the past few weeks my girlfriend acted weird toward me, and I was under the impression that she had an affair and wanted to break up with me. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that she was pregnant.

What disturbed me most, was the fact that she didn't tell me straight away. When I asked her why, she said it was because of me being in the military. I completed the first six months of a mandatory two-year stint. It was not something I wanted to do, but being drafted, you had no choice. You could either do two years military service, or spend three years in jail. Most able young men rather opted for military service.

Staring out the window, the scenery flashed by in a blur, but I didn't notice. My mind was still back at home with Charlotte. After we had a talk with her parents, I was supposed to tell mine, but chickened out at the last minute. Before another opportunity could present itself, it was time to head back to base.

I said goodbye to Charlotte at her house with the promise that I would tell my parents. My mother drove me to the train station, presenting a good opportunity to tell her on our thirty-minute drive, but somehow I didn't think it appropriate.

The truth? I was scared. In all honesty, I had nothing to be scared of because my parents would have supported me no matter what happened, but I was eighteen, and not thinking straight.They would be disappointed, which was what scared me.

The chatter around me quieted, and I felt several pairs of eyes on me. I glanced to my right. A young man with bright red hair, and a face full of freckles stared at me. Not even the short army haircut could hide the carrot color of Rex Dumont's hair. His green eyes were fixed on my face with interest and concern.

"What happened to you over the weekend?" Rex asked.

The face of a young boy popped up from the seat in front of us. Although dressed in a brown military uniform like the rest of us, he looked too young and too small to be in the army. Charles Middleton the Third was the same age as us, and had aspirations of becoming a jockey.

"Did she dump you?" Charlie asked in his soft, high-pitched voice.

Another head popped up next to him. George Cunningham's blond hair was just as spiky as the first day I met him on the train to Bloemfontein.

"You hardly said a word since we left Joburg," George said in his deep voice.

The bus departed from Johannesburg train station an hour earlier, which was all the time my friends would allow me my own thoughts. They could see something was up, and their curiosity reached boiling point.

I sighed. "No, she didn't dump me. When she refused to take my calls, I decided to stake out her house. After a few hours she had to go to the shop, so I followed her."

Rex raised an eyebrow. "Stalking. Now there's a sure sign of desperation."

I ignored the comment. "She went into the shop, and I sat outside waiting, planning my next move. Before I could come up with a good plan, she exited and noticed me."

"I bet that was awkward," Charlie said.

"Shush," George chided him, interested to hear the rest of story.

I smiled. "Yes, you're right. That was awkward, but I pretended that I saw her entering the shop and waited for her to come out. Before she could think my story through, I demanded to know what was up with her. At first she didn't want to tell me, but then she realized she had to, and spilled the whole sack of beans."

"Well, are you going to tell or do I have to beat it out of you?" George asked when I paused too long. He lifted his short, powerful frame in the seat.

I kept my face blank. "She's pregnant."

A stunned silence followed. Three pairs of eyes stared at me in disbelief.

George was the first to find his voice. "Corporal Chris Dempsey, you stud. That's awesome."

Several curious heads in the bus turned our way, and I signaled a warning to George with my eyes.

"Oh, it's supposed to be a secret," George said with a lowered voice.

Rex shook his head in sympathy. "Did you talk to her parents?"

I nodded.

Rex looked impressed. "Did you tell your parents?"

I swallowed, and shook my head. "Not yet."

"How did that happen?" Charlie asked wide-eyed.

George wrapped an arm around Charlie's slim shoulders, and pulled him down into the seat next to him.

"Charlie, I think it's time we have a chat."

When Charlie and George dropped back into their seats, Rex continued to stare at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Are you ready to be a father?"

I shook my head. "Of course not, but this is not something I can ignore or run away from. I have to deal with it."

Having another eighteen months of military service ahead of me became a daunting prospect. As much as fatherhood scared me, I would rather be with Charlotte than on a military base.

It was late afternoon when the busses stopped in front of the big black gates. Two guards, dressed in full uniform, were on duty. I stepped from the bus, and the cool winter air smacked me in the face. The gloomy, cloudy weather echoed my mood. I grabbed my kit from the cargo hold and headed for the gates.

When the guards noticed my rank, they came to attention. They had to acknowledge every rank, even a lowly lance corporal like me.

"Welcome back, Corporal," one of the guards said.

"Thanks," I mumbled, not at all pleased to be back.

Alpha Company's barracks where at the top of the base, the furthest buildings from the gates. I tossed my balsak over my shoulder and started the walk. My three friends fell in next to me.

I glanced to my right and had to smile. Like me, they all carried their bags over their left shoulder, and without even trying, they kept in step with me. Uniformity was so drilled into us the first six months, we did it without even thinking.

When I stepped into our bungalow, a few people had already returned, but the building remained largely empty. The polished linoleum floors reflected the bright, overhead fluorescent lights.

Two rows of neatly made beds lined the walls. My team, Alpha Section, had the beds on the left by the windows. The section leaders had their own cubicles, located right at the entrance of the bungalow, two each on either side.

My cubicle was the first one to my left. I entered the small room and placed the balsak on my bed. Next to the bed was a dark green steel cabinet, and at the foot end, my trommel, the only other furniture in the room.

I unlocked the cabinet and packed away my folded clothes in a neat pile. Once done, I stepped into the bungalow. It was now filled with soldiers. Some already stripped off their uniforms and ran around in their jocks, while other were more modest and wore their black PT shorts.

Someone noticed the lance corporal stripes on my sleeves and shouted, "Stand up!"

Everyone in the bungalow jumped to attention. It was required that whenever a person of rank entered a building, all the soldiers should come to attention.

I looked at the unfamiliar soul from bravo section. "Relax, I've been here a while already."

Everyone returned to what they were doing. I made my way down the busy isle and stopped at Rex's bed. I glanced at the empty bed next to his.

"Frankie not back yet?"

Rex shook his head. "No, Corporal, his train is probably late again."

I still found it difficult to be addressed as 'corporal' by my friends. We all did basic training together. Rex and I enrolled in the Section Leader's program, and although I graduated as a section leader, Rex didn't quite make it, but was satisfied to be my section second in command.

Frankie Thompson, our other friend, lived near Cape Town. Like all the other soldiers from there, he had to take the train home. I left my friends to unpack and headed back to my cubicle. As I neared the door, a tall, skinny young man stumbled through the door.

He had his balsak over one shoulder, a civvy bag in his left hand, and another green bag clutched in his right hand. When he noticed me, his face lit up. Before he could say anything, he stepped on the trailing strap of his civvy bag and crashed to the floor in a tangled heap.

I ran forward and caught the green bag that he desperately tried to keep in the air. A pleasant aroma of something edible emanated from the bag. Quick as a flash Frankie was back on his feet.

"Corporal Dempsey, thanks for saving that."

I stared at the bag. "What's in it?"

Frankie smiled. "Treasure. My mother baked for us this weekend."

His mother owned a confectionary and did all her own baking. While Frankie unpacked, I changed into PT clothes. While on base, if we were not in uniform, we were required to dress in a brown T-shirt and black shorts. No civilian clothes were allowed.

Not having the rank displayed on my sleeve, I felt much more at ease moving through the bungalow. We gathered at Frankie's bed. He spread open two towels and unpacked the contents of the green bag on his bed.

My mouth watered when I noticed the assortment of cupcakes and small tarts.

With trommels serving as chairs, we were seated around Frankie's bed. Several pairs of longing eyes from the rest of the bungalow were cast toward the eats displayed on the bed, but nobody dared to approach.

George's reputation as a fighter was well known throughout the base, and nobody messed with him. Not that George would go around looking for trouble, but if it came to him, he was well equipped to deal with it.

Frankie grabbed a chocolate cupcake. Before he took a big bite, he asked, "So what did you all do the weekend?"

All eyes turned to me. With a mouth full of jam tart, I shook my head. "Don't look at me, I already shared my weekend."

Frankie's eyes widened, and he desperately tried to choke down a piece of cupcake. "What happened?"

When I took too long to answer, George couldn't stand the suspense. "Charlotte's pregnant."

"Oh," Frankie said, and moved the cupcake to his mouth to take another bite, but he froze in mid-bite. "Wait, what?"

I shrugged and reached for a strawberry tart.

"Did you tell your parents?" Frankie asked.

"No," I mumbled with a full mouth.

"Well, we had a family picnic on the top of Table Mountain on Saturday," Frankie said.

I was always amazed how nothing fazed Frankie. One of the clumsiest people I knew, but he took everything in his stride. With all the knowledge of a walking encyclopedia, he made a useful and loyal friend. Of course, not everyone appreciated his vast general knowledge, and Frankie was often labeled a know-it-all.

But we were happy to have him as a friend, and always had his back. When everyone, including the corporals, found out that we were best friends with head chef, Frik Heyns, they tended to leave us alone. On an army base, the last thing you wanted to do was to piss off the chef.

As if on cue, Frik entered our bungalow. "What's this I hear about sweet treats from home?"

Frankie patted the space on the trommel next to him. "Take a seat and help yourself, before Rex devours everything."

With a mouthful and a cupcake in each hand, Rex grinned. We were all healthy eaters, but Rex was the master.

Frik grabbed a jam tart in bit into the delicacy. "This is good," he said. Coming for a guy who knew his way around a kitchen, it was high praise.

Of course, I had to share my story about Charlotte's pregnancy once more. At least with every person I told, it became easier. Although it would take a while, I would get more comfortable with the idea of becoming a father.

While we work to finish off the eats, the rest shared their weekends. As I listened to my friends describing their weekend at home, an uncomfortable feeling washed over me. The next morning I had to don my lance corporal stripes again, and then I would be more than their friend. I would be their section leader.

Unlike some people, power never went to my head. I observed some of the new section leaders and noticed how they saw themselves above the rest of the guys. I could only hope that my rank would not sour my friendships.

Once the new phase of our training started, I could show no favoritism toward my friends. They understood that,and dealt better with it than I did. By the time it got close to lights out, there was no sign of our platoon corporal.

After six months of training, nobody had to be told anymore that it was bed time, everyone knew it. When the clock struck ten, the lights went out. There were a few hushed conversations, but it wouldn't take long before the bungalow was engulfed in silence.

I lay on my bed with my arms folded behind my head, and stared at the dark ceiling. My thoughts drifted toward Charlotte. My mother always warned me to be careful when it came to sex, but when Charlotte and I got together, all thoughts of care went out of the window.

I had no choice but to deal with the aftermath. It was hard to make any plans for the future when there was still eighteen months of national service to deal with. One thing I learned from my time in the army, nothing was predictable. You never knew what the next day would hold.

According to Frankie and Frik, our next weekend pass would happen in four weeks. That was how much time I had to figure out how I to break the news to my mother and father that they were about to become grandparents. If I survived that encounter, I might have a bright future ahead of me.

With the familiar sound of George's snoring rolling through the bungalow, I drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 2

When I opened my eyes, my head turned toward the window. It was still dark outside, but enough light from the yellow security lights filtered through that I could read the time from the digital watch on my left wrist. 04:52.

Even the weekend at home, I woke up every morning before five. Ever since we started basics, we had to get up before five every morning, and got used to it. Well, most of us did. There were always a few that could sleep even if a herd of elephants ran through the bungalow.

I pushed the blanket from me, and was greeted by the cold winter air. Dressed only in PT shorts and a T-shirt, I grabbed my overalls from the cabinet. They provided extra insulation against the cold. I looked at the rack in the cabinet, and retrieved the two sleeves with my lance corporal stripes. I slipped them onto my arms, and stared at the solitary strip on my right upper-arm for a moment. It would still take a while to get used to the newly acquired rank.

Retrieving my towel and shaving kit from the bottom shelf of the cabinet, I headed for the bathrooms located at the opposite end of the bungalow. Although a few of the guys stirred, the majority was still fast asleep. I glanced at my watch. 05:06.Normally, at that time, a corporal would be blowing his whistle like a mad man.

As I walked past the switch, I flipped on the lights. The two rows of overhead fluorescent lights spluttered to life, illuminating the bungalow. Several people covered their heads, but most started to rise.

When I walked past George's bed, there was no sign of movement. His rhythmic snores an indication that he was still in dreamland. I hit his feet, and he moved to a sitting position.

I smiled at the surprised look on his face. "Morning, Sunshine. I suggest you wake up or you'll miss breakfast."

George yawned. "Thank you, Corporal."

By the mention of the word breakfast, Rex jumped out of bed and into his overalls.

"I'm starving," he said.

Charlie snorted. "How can you be starving after all you ate last night?"

Rex shook his head. "That was nine hours ago. My stomach suspects that my throat's been cut."

With Rex's ability to stuff food into his mouth, I found it a small miracle that he remained so skinny. Frik, who grew up on a farm, suggested that Rex might have worms, but with all the running around we did, there were no fat people in our company.

After a quick wash and shave, I shined my boots and made my bed. Months of practice helped to ensure that my bed was ready for inspection in only a few minutes. I grabbed my varkpan, pickset and cup, and headed for the door.

The moment I stepped outside, the icy air hit me in the face like a hammer. Needing more clothes against the cold, I turned and ran back inside to retrieve the heavy coat from my cabinet.

"Grab your coats, its fucking cold outside," I advised the rest of the bungalow.

By 06:00 the entire company was assembled and ready to head for breakfast, but there were still no sign of our platoon corporals. During our six months of training, the corporals always waited by the time we lined up for breakfast to take us to the mess hall. We were not allowed to show up individually, we had to arrive as a company.

"Where are the corporals today?" I asked one of my fellow section leaders.

Barry Moore blew on his cold hands. "I don't know, but they better hurry, I'm fucking freezing."

Five minutes later there were still no sign of them. I looked at the eight other section leaders."Fuck this shit, let's take them."

"Are we allowed to do that?" Nick Norton asked.

"I'll deal with the shit later. Right now, I'm hungry and cold."

I moved in front of the company. "Company, attention!"

As one man they slammed their feet down. "Company, right turn!"

For a moment I held my breath. I remembered the first time Frankie received that command and turned the wrong way, but everyone executed the command in unison.

"Company, forward march!"

I marched them around the building and toward the mess hall. As we neared the mess hall, I glanced over to Bravo Company. They still waited for their corporals to show.

As we rounded the corner, I noticed Corporals Lewis and Dye amongst the group of corporals in the open square. I brought the company to a halt and Corporal Lewis walked toward me.

His face was pulled in annoyance. I glanced at the other section leaders and wondered if they would back me, or would leave me hanging. Corporal Lewis was a head shorter than me, but his build was solid.

When he talked, it was almost a scowl. "Dempsey, I should've known you would emerge as the ring leader. What took you so long?"

I stared at the corporal, unsure how to respond. His face was a mask of seriousness, and I tried to determine if I was in trouble, or being praised.

"We waited but when nobody showed, we figured you were busy, so we brought the guys down for breakfast," I said, shifting my feet but holding Corporal Lewis' stare.

"We have you Lance Jacks to do the menial things. At least you're not completely useless. Over at Charlie Company the whole platoon's still asleep."

That confirmed my suspicions. They kept an eye on us, the new section leaders, to see how we would handle things on our own. From the smiles on the other corporals' faces, I took it we passed the first test.

Corporal Dye pointed to the food pots where Frik and his crew waited to serve breakfast. "Well, join the line. The troops are hungry and waiting for you."

I glanced at the other section leaders and they hurried to form a line. Almost reluctant at the special treatment, I joined them. Frik pointed to a table in front where a few lance corporals were already seated.

"That's your table, Corporals."

I've seen lance corporals eat at that table before, but never thought it was a designated spot. The two stripe corporals ate in the Non Commissioned Officer's mess across from the main mess hall.

After my tray was loaded with powdered scrambled eggs, two strips of streaky bacon, two pork sausages, baked beans, and two slices of bread, I filled my cup with coffee and joined the other section leaders at the table. I took a seat next to Nick Norton and Barry Moore.

"What do you guys think we'll be doing this week?" Nick asked.

I swallowed a piece of bread and took a sip of coffee. "I heard we're doing riot training. Apparently the unit's deploying to the townships at the end of the month."

Barry raised an eyebrow. "Where did you hear this?"

I shrugged. "Here and there." I wasn't about to tell him I heard it from Frankie, and Frik confirmed the news.

I watched Rex and the rest of my friends as they stood in line to get their food. Ever since we started basics, Rex was always by my side. For the first time I felt removed. Some of the section leaders looked at the troops, and had a smug look on their faces, like they were better than the others.

After breakfast, most of the section leaders walked back to our bungalows together. Although we have to report for breakfast as a company, we could walk back on our own. Inspection was normally at 07:00. Unsure if the platoon corporals would attend, we made sure everyone was ready for inspection just in case.

At exactly seven o' clock, Corporals Lewis and Dye entered the bungalow. Every soldier stood at the foot end of their beds, feet slightly apart and with their hands behind their backs. The other two section leaders and me, stood at the doors to our cubicles.

"Well, will you look at that," Corporal Dye said, almost sounding impressed.

Corporal Dye walked down one side of the bungalow, while Corporal Lewis inspected the other side. They walked through without saying a word. When they circled their way around, they stopped at the door. They didn't even bother with our cubicles.

"Everyone, report outside," Corporal Lewis said, and disappeared through the door.

I closed my trommel, locked my cabinet, and joined the rest outside.

"It looks like most of you enjoyed the weekend a little too much. Nothing a good old fashioned run can't cure," Corporal Lewis said and pointed at a tree near the gate leading to the big tin building. It was the same small tree we ran around during basics, and it was two hundred meters away.

I watched the platoon take off and it felt awkward being left behind. Like in the mess hall earlier, I was removed from my friends and treated differently. The single stripe on my arm elevated me above my friends.

Corporal Dye turned to us. "When they return, run them once more, and then take them to the armory. Once everyone has their weapons, assemble at the open area next to the obstacle course. We'll meet you there."

As the corporals walked away, I looked at Nick and Barry. "We each take our own sections?" I asked.

The both nodded in agreement. As the platoon started to return, I stepped to the side.

"Alpha section, over here," I shouted.

Charlie, Rex and Frankie ran at the back of the group with George. He was never one for running and almost always finished last. Once my section reported, I looked at them with a slight grin on my face. In the cool morning air, their rushing breaths emitted a plume of steam.

"You're hardly breaking a sweat. Let's go again."

Like the other sections, my guys set off for the tree. While the other section leaders stayed behind, I joined in on the run. Harry Tovey and Nick Puller started to surge ahead.

"Stay together as a unit," I said.

George would always be at the back of the pack when it came to running, and it was hard for some of the people to stay with him. Even after six months, I found it hard to believe that some people still didn't grasp the concept of working together.

The guys from the other sections swore. I heard mutters of, "trying to push their authority," and, "fucking assholes."

As we neared the little tree, George groaned. "I can't believe someone hasn't chopped down this tree yet."

"Be glad they didn't, or we would be running further," Frankie said.

On our way back, I stopped my section at the armory. Before we went on leave for the weekend, we had to hand in our weapons.

"Frankie, are you smoking?" I asked.

Every time he exhaled, his hot breath made a plume of steam in the cold morning air.

"No, Corporal, I'm just breathing," he answered with a smile.

"Let's grab our weapons before the rest of the company gets here," I said, and they formed a line behind me for the armory.

My R4 rifle was still where I left her. I lifted her from the gun rack and felt the weapon's familiar weight in my hands. I turned and signed against my name in the register. Once everyone in my section retrieved their weapons, I marched them around to the open area next to the obstacle course.

"There's no one here yet, so take a smoke break," I said.

Several of the guys in the section smoked, including Rex. He picked up the habit during basics, and claimed it helped to calm his nerves. I glanced toward the sky. Gray clouds continued to roll in. Training would only stop if there was a heavy downpour of epic proportions. If it was a soft, steady drizzle, we would continue as if it was a bright sunny day.

As Rex stomped on the stub of his cigarette and put the butt in his pocket, the corporals drove up in a Samil 20. I noticed the gear on the back.

"One of the most important things you need to learn in this phase, is crowd control. If you patrol the townships and happen to stumble across a small crowd, you need to know how to handle them, or they will kill you and everyone in your section," Corporal Dye explained.

Several anxious looks were exchanged. White people never entered the townships, not without a death wish. At least that was the common perception.

"Firing at someone with live ammunition is a last resort, and only done in extreme circumstances," Corporal Lewis said. "We will teach you how to effectively handle a crowd. Alpha section, you're first."

I led my section forward. We were each handed a helmet with a see-through visor, and a big plastic shield.

"Most commonly when encountering a crowd, they will pelt you with rocks and stones. This gear will protect you." Corporal Dye said.

We donned the gear and formed a line. The rest of the platoon acted as the hostile crowd. They shouted insults and threw rocks. The big, plastic shield could withstand the force of the rocks, although the constant clatter against the shelter was rather intimidating.

"If any of you fuckers hit me, you'll spend the night in the infirmary," George threatened.

That had the desired effect, and most of the rocks were aimed at Rex and me. After a particular large rock connected with Rex's shield, he swore loudly.

"Enough of this shit." He bent down and picked up a fist-sized stone.

When the next rock hit his shield, he retaliated and returned fire. He pulled his arm back and let fly with the rock. It connected with someone's arm, followed by a loud yell. Encouraged by the result, Rex threw another.

The rest of the platoon realized they were unprotected and made a hasty retreat. Corporal Dye stood with his hands on his hips.

"Dumont, what the fuck are you doing?" he yelled.

Rex stopped in mid-throw. He dropped the rock and turned to face the corporal."I know we haven't covered it yet, Corporal, but I'm dispersing the unruly crowd."

Corporal Dye's face was full of astonishment. He turned to Corporal Lewis, who was familiar with Rex's rock-throwing abilities. Instead of answering, he turned away to hide his smile.

Corporal Dye walked up to Rex, and then yelled, "The next person who throws a rock back at the crowd, will spend the rest of the day running with his rifle held above his head!"

Chapter 3

Frik's hearty laughter echoed through the canteen. Several heads turned toward our table where Frankie and Charlie related the story of Rex's rock-throwing antics.

Frik took a sip from his beer. "You can be glad that you didn't take someone's eye out."

Rex shrugged. "That would teach them to throw rocks at me in the first place. George just growls and it makes them run. I have to defend myself."

George grinned. "What can I say, you don't have my charm."

At least that didn't change. At the end of the day, we could still gather in the canteen and drink our allotted two beers per night. Before we went to the canteen, I threw on my coat. It was cold outside, and it concealed my rank.

For a few hours every night I could be myself around my friends. We were never a rowdy bunch and didn't look for trouble, but it had the nasty habit of finding us. As I opened my second beer, I heard a commotion from outside.

A group of guys gathered in a circle. Several shouts of encouragements drifted in through the open doors. We looked at each other with every intention not to get involved, but then the twins walked into the canteen.

Barry and Larry Moore didn't look anything alike. One had dark brown hair, while the other had blond hair. As they walked past our table, Barry noticed me and stopped.

"Chris, some of your guys are involved in the ruckus out there."

"Shit," I said, and jumped to my feet.

I ran out of the canteen toward the bunch of shouting young men. George and the others were right on my heels.

"Out of my way," I shouted with authority and a path opened.

In the middle of the ring were two guys from my section, Fred Burgess and Mike Tanner. Both of them spent most of their free time in the gym, a building located at the end of Bravo Company's row of bungalows.

After a workout, they were on their way to the canteen, and had to cross through Bravo Company lines. A few of the Bravo guys took exception and accosted Fred and Mike. After Mike decked one of the guys with a solid punch to the jaw, they called in re-enforcements.

By the time we arrived, Fred and Mike faced eight people from Bravo. Trying to avoid another all-out Company brawl, I jumped in between Fred, Mike, and their attackers.

"What the fuck's going on here?" I demanded.

One of the Bravo guys, a medium build man with black hair and thick bushy eyebrows, snarled at me. "It's got fuck all to do with you."

Before I could say another word, he swung his arm around and hit me in the jaw. Staggering back in surprise, I made sure to stay out of reach of his swinging fists. Something short and stocky surged past me. George's huge fist smashed into the center of the man's face, crunching the bones in his nose on impact.

The guy went down like a rock. When he hit the ground he didn't move. Two others stepped toward me where I stood in front of Fred and Mike, my arms spread out to protect them. Rex and Frankie jumped in front of me.

"Don't worry, we got your back, Corporal," Rex said with raised fists.

Upon hearing my rank, the advancing two stopped and raised their hands in a defensive posture.

"Corporal? Eh, sorry, sir. We didn't know," one guy said.

"Corporal Dempsey, what happened here?" a voice behind me asked.

I turned to find Trevor Shaw, a friend from the section leader's program.

Pointing to the guy on the ground, I asked,"Corporal Shaw, is he one of yours?"

Trevor shook his head. "Same platoon, different section."

I rubbed my jaw. "Well, he took a swing at me. I suggest you get him out of here before someone with a higher rank happens by and sends him to the detention barracks."

Even insulting any rank could land you thirty days in the DB, the army's version of jail. Trevor nodded to the two soldiers. They grabbed the man on the ground and dragged him away.

As they walked away, one of the guys said, "They can be glad that corporal showed up when he did."

Trevor looked at the guy and laughed. "You have no idea what you're talking about. You bunch should go on your knees tonight and give thanks to the good Lord for your good fortune. If that corporal didn't show up, you would've been on the way to the infirmary by now."

Trevor glanced back over his shoulder and watched me help Mike to his feet. Standing next to me, George had a huge smile on his face.

"That felt good. I haven't hit anyone in months."

After we returned to the canteen, I finished my beer, and returned to the bungalow to write a letter to Charlotte. I kept thinking of our last kiss, which brought a smile to my face.

The following morning it was even colder and gloomier than the previous day. Dark, ominous, gray clouds set the scene for a miserable day, but the platoon corporals had no mercy. Through sifting, ice-cold rain, we did more riot training.

For once, we didn't mind the running around; it helped to keep us warm. By now, everyone was in peak physical condition, and running was a mere inconvenience rather than punishment.

Nick and Barry didn't share my enthusiasm. While I ran with my section, they would stand and watch theirs.

At one point, Corporal Lewis pulled me aside. "Dempsey, you're a corporal now, why do you insist on running with the guys?"

I stared at the corporal for a moment, not sure if he would laugh at my explanation. "I have to lead these guys when we deploy to the border. In order for them to trust me, I have to earn their respect. This is my way of doing it."

Corporal Lewis thought it over and shrugged. "If it works for you, fine."

Our training corporals were just that, for training. They would not deploy with us, and would never see action. Already in their second year of national service, they would return to civilian life by the time we deployed. Our operational leaders would join us sometime before that.

After tea, I felt something cold hit my cheek. It was a piece of ice. The soft drizzle turned into a freezing rain.

As we made our way back to the training area, Rex looked up at the sky."Great, now we have to run around in the snow."

Frankie snorted. "It's not snow, just sleet."

Snow was not something any of us were familiar with. Rex glanced at Frankie, trusting the information from his friend. "Sleet or snow, it doesn't matter. Its ice, and make things cold."

Corporals Lewis and Dye moved our training in a new direction. Now that we knew the basics of riot control, we had to learn how to walk patrols in the townships. The possibility of someone shooting at you was high, so we had to remain alert at all times.

The rest of the morning we practiced walking in formation. The corporals would act as suspicious elements, and when we encountered them, we had to split off to the side and take up defensive positions.

Clearing corners had to be done in pairs, similar to what we learned about clearing trenches.

"Do we shoot to provide cover fire?" Rex asked.

Corporal Lewis shook his head. "Unless you're shot at, you do not shoot first. Firing at unarmed civilians can result in a dangerous situation, and should be avoided at all cost."

"Damn," Rex said.

I shook my head at my trigger happy friend. If he had his way, we would be shooting at anything that moved. After lunch, we were taught the delicate art of entering potential dangerous buildings. We learned to keep to the side and how to work around corners.

Over the next two weeks we practiced handling riots, doing patrols and clearing buildings. We also learned how to use teargas and rubber bullets to disperse a crowd.

Corporal Lewis glanced at Rex. "These are more effective than throwing rocks."

Rex grinned. "But not as much fun."

Just as we got confident and started to work well as a team, we received the news. After breakfast and inspection, we assembled as normal to wait for our daily instructions. Sergeant Major Wise accompanied the corporals.

"This cannot be good," George muttered when he spotted the stocky sergeant major with the handlebar moustache.

Sergeant Major Wise let his eyes sweep over the soldiers in company formation. The nine section leaders assembled to the side.

"I know you've been training hard for deployment to the townships, but there's been a change in plan. Alpha Company was chosen to participate in an experiment. Up to now, only campers did duty at the Ladybrand Military Base. This year, the powers that be decided to use national service men instead. Unfortunately, the riot training you received won't be of much help as we will be patrolling the South African-Lesotho border."

Several worried glances were exchanged. Nobody expected to be deployed so soon.

The Sergeant Major smiled."Don't worry, it's not that serious, but you will require additional training. You only have two weeks to prepare. That's not much time, so I suggest you pay attention and be a quick study."

With that, Sergeant Major Wise had a quick word with the corporals and then left.

Corporal Lewis stepped forward."Well, you heard the sergeant major. Assemble in your platoons. We have a lot of work ahead of us."

Instead of riot control, we had to learn to set up and handle a road block. Although searching a vehicle was less threatening than a rowdy crowd, you still had to be on high alert. Someone smuggling something could pull a weapon, and you had to be prepared for such an event.

A big part of our deployment would consist of improving relations with farmers and residents in the area. They suffered frequent losses through thefts from illegal people crossing the border. We would drive around the area visiting the farms, and see if they noticed any suspicious people or activities. We had to practice this before doing it for real.

We took turns being the farmer. Charlie walked up to George and knocked on an invisible door.

George yanked open the make believe door."Yeah, what do you want?"

"Good morning, sir. We're doing a patrol in the area and just wanted to stop by and see if everything's good here," Charlie said.

"Just fucking peachy," George growled.

"That's great. Have you noticed any suspicious people in the area?"

George scratched his head. "Now that you mentioned it, there's this one suspicious character that hangs around my sheep."

Charlie swallowed a laugh. "Can you give us a description?"

George nodded. "Sure. It looks like he stood behind a giant sifter, and someone else threw him with a handful of shit. Oh yes, he has big ears, and bright, red hair."

"Oh fuck off already," Rex growled but couldn't hide his smile.

The entire section had a hard time suppressing their laughter. If the platoon corporals thought for a moment we had fun instead of training, they would make our lives miserable in an instant.

When we stopped for mid-morning coffee, I walked over to Frankie."Do you know if we're still getting a pass this weekend?"

Frankie shrugged. "Yes, as far as I know." He took a sip of coffee. "You don't look very excited."

I shook my head. "I'm not. To be honest, I'm scared stiff. When I go home this weekend, I have to tell my parents."

Charlie jumped up, remembering something. "Oh yes, I almost forgot. I phoned my dad last night. He'll be on business here in Bloemfontein Thursday and will come through with the Combi. Do you guys want a lift to Jo'burg?"

Rex and George jumped up. "Hell yes," George said. Private transport trumped military transport.

I glanced at Frankie. A weekend at home was always a source of great excitement, but there was a hidden sadness in his always bright eyes.

"What's wrong? Is your girlfriend pregnant too?" I asked.

For a moment his face registered shock and surprise, and then he laughed and shook his head. "If only I had a girlfriend. No, my parents are out of town this weekend, so I won't get to see them. I'll be home alone."

"Why don't you come home with me?" four voices said as one.

Frankie smiled. "I can't go home with all of you."

Charlie stepped forward. "Come with me then. We're going out to the farm for the weekend."

I glanced at Rex and George. Our houses couldn't compete with a horse farm.

Frankie's eyes lit up. "I've never been on a farm."

Charlie laughed. "Oh, you're in for a treat, city boy."

Thursday afternoon the corporals informed us that we would go home for the weekend. For some reason it made them very happy to delay the news until the last possible moment. Thanks to Frankie and Frik, our bags were already packed.

As soon as we passed inspection, and handed in our weapons at the armory, we grabbed our bags and headed for the gates while the rest of the base rushed to the busses. We presented our leave forms to the guards, and then ran to where Charlie's dad waited.

The Combi, fitted with custom-made seats, made the ride to Johannesburg quite a comfortable one. Rex and I were dropped off at the train station. We bought our tickets, and rushed down to the platform. The train was about to leave,so we jumped into the carriage as the doors started to close.

Rex got off at Benoni while I continued to Brakpan. He wished me luck, and I waved hanging out the window as the train pulled out of the station. When the train rolled into my hometown, I got more nervous. It was still early enough, so I greeted my parents, stashed my gear in my room, and then hurried over to Charlotte's house. My father looked annoyed, but my mother smiled, understanding my need to see my girlfriend.

Charlotte had no idea that I would be home for the weekend. I thought I would surprise her, and knocked on the door. But instead of Charlotte, her older sister opened.

"Chris, what a surprise!" she said and gave me a hug.

The sight of Mary took me by surprise. She didn't normally stay over at her parent's house.

"Is Charlotte here?" I asked.

Mary looked uncomfortable. "I don't think she expected you this weekend. She went with my parents to a resort in Tzaneen for the weekend. She's going to be very disappointed that she missed you."

Chapter 4

Saturday morning I sat at the table picking at my breakfast. My mother got used to the fact that I devoured everything in front of me, so seeing me rolling a piece of egg around without stuffing it in my mouth, raised an eyebrow.

"Chris, are you alright?" she asked.

Her voice yanked me from the depths of despair.

"Eh, yeah, I'm fine," I said, and pushed my plate to the side.

Mother gave a knowing smile. "You miss her?"

I nodded. Although I did miss Charlotte, the real reason for my absence of mind was the inner struggle of how to tell my parents that my girlfriend was pregnant. They were well aware that we slept together, but they trusted that I would be careful and take precautions.

Of course I didn't, hence my predicament. My mother took my plate and scraped the remains of my breakfast into the Fox Terrier's bowl. The brown and white dog tilted his head to the side, curious as to why he received something from my plate.

He sniffed the scrambled eggs and the half-eaten piece of toast, wondering what was wrong with it. At last he decided to try it for himself, and the food disappeared in a few quick gulps.

"Did Dad go to work?" I asked. I heard him leave earlier.

My mom lit a cigarette and took a seat at the table. "Yes, there's some emergency with a job that has to go out by Monday. Are you going to tell me what's eating you?"

I stared into her eyes, and got a very uneasy feeling that she knew.

When I lowered my gaze, the thumping in my chest was almost unbearable."I need to tell you something, but I would rather do it when Dad's here too."

My father returned well after dark. When he walked through the door, I could see he was not in a good mood, and the telling had to wait. The following morning he knocked on my door.

"It's open," I said from where I sat on the edge of my bed tying the laces of my sneakers.

He pushed open the door, standing in the doorway. "Your mother says you want to speak to me?"

I shook my head. "I actually need to speak to you both, but I can see you have a lot on your plate. It's not important and can wait."

My dad sighed and pulled a packet of Chesterfields from his pocket. He offered me one. The gesture made me smile. While growing up he frequently told me that if he ever caught me smoking, he would pull the skin from my ass.

When I shook my head, he shrugged and lighted one."I have to go back to work. There's a job that has to be out by tomorrow, and the idiots screwed it up, so now I have to fix it. You'll probably be gone by the time I return."

He held out his hand, and I gripped it.

"When will you get to come home again?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I have no idea. They don't tell us these things in advance. We're leaving for Ladybrand in a week to do our coin ops."

He took another drag from the cigarette. "Well, I'll see you then when I see you. Take care."

Five minutes later he left for work. Mother offered to drive me to the bus station in Johannesburg, but I felt miserable and wanted to be alone.

"Thanks, Mom, but I'll just walk to the station and grab the train," I said.

She still had to pick up my sisters, who returned from a school camp that afternoon, and I would rather be with my own thoughts.

The moment my friends saw me, they knew something was up.

"Why do you look like the dog ate your breakfast?" George asked.

I explained that Charlotte was not home, and that my dad had to work all weekend, so I didn't tell my parents about the pregnancy.

"But enough about my miserable weekend, how was yours?"

George spent his weekend bowling. He had aspirations of being a professional ten-pin bowler. Frankie couldn't stop talking about his amazing weekend on the farm. He got to ride a horse for the first time.

I listened to him and Charlie telling about their weekend, and laughed at their antics, but deep down felt a sadness that I couldn't explain. Blaming Charlotte for not being home was unreasonable. She couldn't sit around waiting in case I might show up.

By the time we arrived at the base, I had to push my own misery to the side. I knew it would be at least four weeks before we get to go home again. Another four weeks of agony and waiting.

Luckily for me, I had to concentrate on training. The week sped by. Thursday afternoon we were instructed to pack our backpacks and sleeping bags. We would leave for Ladybrand first thing in the morning.

By 05:00 the next morning, the bungalow was a mad rush of activity. Our backpacks were packed and ready to go. Frik informed us the previous evening that there would be no breakfast. Instead, he had to prepare food packets for the entire company.

At 05:30, Corporal Lewis walked in, and ordered the section leaders to get the troops on the back of the trucks. We wasted no time, and by 06:00, everyone had their food packets and was seated in the back of the trucks, ready for departure.

The two-hour trip to the military base in Ladybrand with the Samil truck turned into an adventure. People who drove by the convoy, hooted and waved. The wooden benches on the back of the truck were not designed for comfort, and after about thirty minutes, my ass started to complain.

The trip did give us some time to catch up on gossip.

"Did you hear from Charlotte yet?" George asked.

I nodded. "I phoned her last night. She was not happy that she didn't get to see me over the weekend. She accused me of not being there for her in a time during which she needs me."

Charlie snorted. "It's not like you're doing this out of choice. I am sure you would be in her arms rather than in the army."

Frankie's face was serious. "You know she's right, Corporal."

Ignoring the four faces that stared at him in disbelief, Frankie continued. "I'm not saying it's your fault, but she needs your physical support, and you're not there to give it."

I sighed. Frankie was right. As difficult as it was for me, it was twice as bad for Charlotte. This sparked a debate among everyone in the back of the truck. Several tales surfaced of guys who got dumped by their girlfriends. They were simply not able to wait while we had to complete our two year service.

The debate made for a short trip, and before we knew it, the Samils pulled into the military base. Corporal Lewis walked over and assembled the company. Sergeant Major Wise was waiting for us.

We were a bigger group than what normally stayed at the base. To accommodate us,they pitched three rows of tents in a clearing between the main building and the rugby field.

Each platoon was allocated to a row of tents. Alpha section took the first tent. Each tent contained a steel-framed bed with a sponge mattress. There was no bedding as we would use our sleeping bags.

Sergeant Major Wise looked at us with his hands on his hips. "Don't get too comfortable. You'll spend more time out in the field than here. You'll be out on patrol for two days, and then have a rest day back in the base. Unfortunately, there's a shortage of kitchen staff, so every section that's on the base would be required to help out."

"That doesn't sound like much fun," Rex mumbled.

George groaned. "I hope you didn't think this was supposed to be fun."

After we dumped our gear in the tents, Corporal Dye called out all the drivers, while Corporal Lewis summoned the section leaders.

He spread out a map of the area. "Our platoon will cover sectors eight to ten."

The corporal then tapped the furthest sector. "Alpha section will take this sector, Bravo the middle one, and Charlie section the last sector. Section leaders, familiarize yourself with your areas, and remember, we're here to build up relations, not to destroy them. If you make an arrest, radio it in. We'll come to pick up the offenders, and hand them over to the military police."

Corporal Lewis smiled at me. "Congratulations, Dempsey. Your section has a rest day today. Grab your guys and report to the kitchen. The rest of you, get your radios and field rations, and then head out to your sectors."

I walked over to where my section relaxed under a tree. "Good news guys, we have a rest day today."

They all looked at me suspiciously.

"Corporal, does that mean we've got kitchen duty?" Frankie asked.

I smiled. "I am afraid so."

We followed the footpath to the first building on our right, the mess hall. Much smaller than the one back at our base, this building was designed to accommodate no more than fifty people at a time.

I walked through the seating area to the kitchen area in the back. The kitchen seemed empty.

"Hello! Alpha section reporting for kitchen duty," I announced.

I heard a rustle from the store room, and then a familiar face walked through the door.

"Frik, what are you doing here?" I asked.

The chef smiled. "Every company is going out into the field, so we were given the choice as to which company we want to join. Being head chef, I got first choice, so I selected Alpha Company."

"Ah, great stuff," I said. "At least while we're here, we'll have some decent food."

Frik smiled. "Only when you're at the base, but that comes with a price."

He pointed to a pile of potatoes on a table.

I called my section forward, and directed them to their first task. Frik handed them each a potato peeler, and they started on the heap.

Rex had already scouted all the food in the pantry. "We're going to be out in the field for two days with only field rations." He pointed toward the pantry. "Maybe we should stock up for our trip."

Charlie frowned. "If they catch us, we'll be in deep shit."

George laughed. "Then we have to make sure we don't get caught."

Throughout the course of the day, every now and again, one of the guys would disappear with something to hide in our tent. Frik and I turned a blind eye, pretending that we didn't see what happened.

We spent a large portion of our supposed rest day helping out in the kitchen. We should've known better. In the army there was no such thing as a rest day. As with everything else, it came with strings attached.

Late that afternoon, I reported to the control room to receive my field radio with extra battery. Out in the field we were required to radio in every morning with a situation report as to what happened the previous day, and on what we planned for that day.

After dinner, my section had to report to the kitchen once more to wash the dishes, and to clean up for the evening.

Frik pulled up a chair and joined me at a table where I sat to supervise. "I was going to prepare something extra for you guys, but it appears they helped themselves with enough stock to last a few days."

I shrugged. "I haven't noticed." With a smile I added, "Besides, you forget, we have Rex. We'll be lucky if all that last the first day."

Frik's shoulders shook with his hearty chuckle. "We can all eat our fair share, but Rex is a champion."

That evening, while I was studying the map of our patrol area, the section took stock of their plunders. The following morning we would leave with four loafs of bread, tomatoes, onions, half a block of cheese, a container of peanut butter, and extra coffee and sugar. The section was determined that if the brass insisted in making them work on their rest day, then they wanted to be rewarded for their efforts.

Of course, they could have looted a lot more from the pantry, but Rex, George, Charlie, and Frankie, didn't want to get Frik in trouble, so watched that the others didn't take too much, just the bare essentials.

The following morning, before anybody could find something extra for us to do, we collected our rat packs. We each also received a box of ammunition.

"Corporal, make sure that you can account for every single round, or there will be trouble like you never experienced before," Corporal Lewis warned.

Once we were loaded, we headed out. Although trained to be a Ratel driver, George handled the Samil 20 well. I took up the passenger seat, while the rest of the section got comfortable in the back.

We followed the main road toward Maseru. With the border post visible in the distance, we turned right onto a dirt road. The road was recently scraped and traveled well. After driving for twenty-five kilometers, we entered our designated sector.

"What now?" George asked.

I pointed toward the nearest farm. "It is time we introduce ourselves."

The farm was well kept, and a herd of cows grazed in the distance.

"Stay in the truck," I ordered the rest of the section.

I knocked on the door, and an elderly woman opened.

"What do you want?" she asked, anything but friendly. Taken aback by her abrupt greeting, it took me a second to find my voice.

"Good morning," I offered a friendly greeting. "We will be patrolling this area for the next two months. I wanted to introduce myself, and find out if you had any troubles with illegal border crossers."

The woman continued to glare at me. "The only ones I had trouble with, is you lot. Now get off my property before I get my shotgun."

I was stunned by her reaction. When I didn't move, she reached for something behind the door. I didn't wait to see what it was, and ran back to the truck.

"What was that all about?" George asked the moment I was seated.

The angry woman still stood in the doorway waving a broomstick at us.

I glanced at George. "I don't think the guys that worked this area before us were very successful in building good relations with the locals."

Fifteen minutes later, we were chased off by another angry farmer. Apparently the previous group of campers that patrolled the area stole some of his chickens.

Chapter 5

We went from farm to farm to meet the local farmers. Initially, I hoped it was just an isolated incident, but it seems the hostility toward the military was a more common occurrence. They lost a lot of livestock every year to illegal border crossers, andwe were there to assist the farmers. You would think they would show more gratitude.

It took us a while to find out the campers that normally patrol the area did a lot of damage to the military image. They would help themselves to livestock, would leave gates open when on patrol, or in some cases, boundary fences were destroyed.

Once you completed your military service, for two months every year, you would be called up to do a military camp. A lot of these campers seemed to have lost their discipline once they returned to civilian life.

When we stopped for lunch, I was quite disheartened.

"I am glad I don't have your job," George mumbled.

An indignant look crossed Rex's face. "You would think these people would be more grateful that we're here."

"It looks like we have our work cut out. We have to be careful in what we do. We need to earn their respect and trust," I said.

Looking at the young faces around me, I didn't voice it to my squad, but the fact that most of us looked like children, didn't help.

Frankie handed me a few sandwiches, two with peanut butter, and two with cheese and tomato. "Here you go, Corporal. Maybe this will cheer you up."

Out in the field everything always tasted better, especially if it was acquired through inventive means. It was also much better than our field rations.

After we had our lunch, I indicated the area where we sat. "Make sure you leave nothing behind. We don't want a cow to choke on a piece of plastic bag. No need to anger the farmers any further."

Once on the road again, George steered the Samil toward the river. I wanted to have a look at what we had to deal with. It had been dry in the region throughout the winter. The Caledon River trickled more like a stream than a river.

Although quite wide in places, the river was shallow and easy to cross. At one point, the authorities had erected a fence on the South African side of the river, but now, after a few years, the fence was torn down.

"No wonder there's so much stock theft. They can come and go as they please," George said.

The two-track road ran parallel to the river, and at a few points came close to the water. Black youths and children watched us from the Lesotho side.

"It's hard to believe that is another country," I said.

The youths on the other side waved their fists at us, and shouted insults.

"The little fuckers," George groaned. "I have a good mind to go over there and give them a few slaps."

I grinned. "That's a sure way to cause an international incident. No, you can't do that."

George frowned. "How about I go over there, grab a few, drag them this side, and then fuck them up."

I glanced at George, not sure if he was joking or not. When he saw the worried look on my face, he laughed. "Relax, Corporal. I won't do something that stupid. But if I catch them on this side, that will be another story."

We continued our journey, and I decided to visit a few more farmers. It was late afternoon when we stopped on the Rogers farm. Steve Rogers, the farmer, was a huge man. The moment I laid eyes on him, I almost ran back to my vehicle. The only thing that provided comfort was the nine armed guys watching from the truck.

The farmer crushed my small hand with his huge mittens, but I didn't show the pain that I felt. He did not drip with friendliness, but was not as hostile as some of the other farmers we visited that day. After I introduced myself and inquired about any possible problems, I shifted my feet.

I pointed to a clump of trees about a kilometer down the road. "Are those trees still on your property?"

When Steve nodded, I took a deep breath. "It's getting late. Would you mind if we camp out there for the night?"

The big man stared at me for a moment. "I have a son about your age. He also has to go to the army next year." He paused for a moment. "How about you boys sleep in my barn for the evening? It's not a fancy hotel, but at least you'll be out of the cold."

"Thank you very much," I said.

I informed the section about our sleeping arrangements. It was more a storage shed than a barn, but it was used to store hay.

"No smoking in here," I ordered. The last thing we wanted to do was to burn down the barn. We prepared our dinner from the rat packs, and had the last of the bread.

By the time we were done with dinner, darkness had descended on the land. The soft glow from a security light provided enough light inside the barn that we could see what we had to do. I spread out some hay, laid out my bivvy, and then my sleeping bag.

Rex lay down on his haybed. "This is more comfortable than my army cot."

"Definitely softer," Charlie agreed.

The night was cold, but we had shelter. We rose before dawn, and by the time the sun peeked over the horizon, we cleaned the barn, and ensured all hay was returned to the pile in the corner. I made sure that we left no rubbish.

When Steve emerged from the farm house, we were loading our gear onto the truck.

"Morning, did you boys sleep well?" he asked.

I flashed him a hearty smile. "Yes, thank you, sir."

He peeked into the barn and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Do you guys want some coffee?" he offered.

We looked at each other and nodded. A few minutes later, he brought out a big coffee can, and a jug of milk. It was brewed from grounded coffee beans, not the instant stuff. The aroma drifted on the early morning breeze and engulfed our senses.

We each had two cups, and then it was time to leave. I thanked Steve for his hospitality.

As I walked toward the truck, his voice stopped me. "Have you been to Harry Johnson's place yet? It's about two kilometers up the road toward Hobhouse on the right."

I nodded. "We were there yesterday, but nobody was home."

Steve smiled. "He'll be there early this morning. You should go by there."

Steve's house was situated in a hollow, and I was unable to reach the base at Ladybrand on the radio. George drove to the top of a hill, and then I tried again.

"Base Control, this is one two alpha, over."

I tried twice more before the radio crackled. "One two alpha, this is base control. What's your sitrep? Over."

I informed them about the farms we had visited, and that we would continue for the day, and patrol the river area.

With that done, we proceeded to the Johnson farm. We drove through the gate, and I noticed the wind pump on the left. The rotors turned lazily in the early morning breeze. The farm house was to the right.

The tin-roofed house looked run down. There was a shiny shed in the back that appeared new. A herd of cows were in a pen near the shed waiting to get milked. A man in his early forties walked toward me.

He was tall and had a lean, athletic build. Although the morning air was crisp, he was dressed in khaki shorts and shirt. He wore long, brown socks with leather boots, and an army bush hat over his short blond hair. His friendly smile lit up his light blue eyes.

I introduced myself and explained that we were national service men that took over from the campers, and that we would patrol the area for the next two months. Harry didn't have much trouble with thieves, as they stole mainly from the farms closest to the river.

"We stopped by yesterday, but your farm help said you were not around," I said.

He nodded. "I have a house in Hobhouse and stay there most of the time. I only come out to the farm two or three times a week to check up on things. Say, have you boys found a TB yet?"

Harry was familiar with army lingo, and I suspected that he spent a few years in the military. When out in the field, you would often find a temporary base from where you operate.

I shook my head. "No, sir. This is only our second day out. We're still familiarizing ourselves with the surroundings."

Harry stared at me for a moment, and then glanced at the rest of our group gathered around the truck. "I let some of the campers stay here before, but had to chase the last group away because they got out of hand. I'm willing to give you a chance. Are you interested?"

"Yes, I am," I answered.

He invited me into the house. "You can make use of the entire house, except the main bedroom, which I keep locked. I sleep there on the odd occasion that I spend the night on the farm."

At the back of the house was a big room with a large front window. In the corner, mattresses were stacked on top of each other. Out of the room to the right, was a bathroom with a large tub, and a separate toilet. The kitchen was large with a pantry off to the side. A small wood burning stove stood in the corner.

Harry looked at me. "All I ask is that you keep out of my room, and keep the rest of the house decent."

I nodded. "That's reasonable. Thank you very much."

Everyone in the squad was excited when I told them that the house would be our TB. No one looked forward to spending a night under the stars. We each selected a mattress and I dragged mine to the corner near the door.

As always, Rex chose the spot next to mine. After we dumped our gear in the room, Harry took me out to the shed. Most of the inside of the shed was occupied by a large, refrigerated storage tank.

Harry tapped the side of the tank. "This is where we store the milk until they come to fetch it. There's always milk in this tank, and you boys are welcome to help yourself. All I ask is that you don't waste."

Harry took a key from his pocket and handed it to me. "This is an extra key to the house. You can lock it when you go out on patrol."

Fifteen minutes later, we locked up the house, mounted the truck, and set out on patrol. We made our way down to the river, and followed the rough, two-track road that ran parallel to the water.

As we crossed from one farm to another, we encountered a boundary fence. The guys on the back took turns to jump down and open the gate every time we stopped at a fence. At the second gate, we found it left open.

I jumped out of the truck and stared at the hoof prints in the dirt. The tracks led down to the water and across the river. I followed the tracks from where they came, and soon realized it came from Steve's farm.

As we pulled up, we found the big man outside talking to Harry Johnson. His face was filled with anger, and his arms swung in animated conversation.

I walked up to the men. "We ran across an open gate, and I noticed hoof prints coming from this way, crossing the river."

Steve growled. "The fuckers stole two of my cows last night. They're quite daring. Even with you guys on the farm, that didn't scare them."

I removed my bush hat and ran a hand through my short hair. "I see there used to be a fence along the river. What happened to it?"

"The government put the fence up a few years ago, but no sooner was it up, or they cut holes in it. For a few months, the authorities tried to maintain it, and even enlisted the help of all the farmers. We simply couldn't stay ahead in trying to keep the fence up. Eventually it just got too expensive for the government to maintain. That's when the army was sent to patrol the area, but it doesn't help much," Steve said with a bitter edge to his voice.

I understood the man's pain and frustration. "How often does this happen?"

Steve's shoulders slumped. "About once a week. If they don't steal a few cows, then it is a few sheep, or some chickens."

I looked around puzzled. "Why don't you keep dogs? Surely that would deter them."

Steve's face was ablaze by a new wave of anger. "I had three Rottweilers. About a week ago they were poisoned. One died, and the other two are still being treated at the vet in Hobhouse."

I shared Steve's anger. Animals are defenseless creatures, and I hate it if they are harmed. "Do the thieves always come at night?"

The farmer nodded. "Yes, normally in the early hours of the morning."

I looked toward my squad. "It seems we need to do a few night patrols. We have to go back to base tomorrow, but on our return, we will do some night surveillance. Hopefully we can catch them in the act, or at least deter them from trying."

Steve nodded. "Thanks. That would be much appreciated."

We drove up and down alongside the river a few times amongst growing taunts from the other side. They knew we wouldn't dare to cross the river. I had no intention of causing an international incident.

The sun was low in the western sky when we returned to the farmhouse. We pooled all the meat from our rat packs, and used the remaining vegetables to cook a stew. In the pantry, we found a bag of maize. Harry said we could use anything from the pantry, so we used some to cook a pot of pap to go with the stew.

After we ate our fill, we cleaned the dishes and the kitchen before we turned in for the night. The following morning we had to return to the base for our "rest day". Rex and George made a list of supplies they needed to acquire from Frik's kitchen. If they were to work on their rest day, they would make sure it was worth it.

While they made plans for their raid, I made my own plans for a night operation when we return to the field. I had to find a way to help the local farmers in their battle against stock theft.

Chapter 6

"Where are you?" Frik's voice yanked me from the deep depths of my thoughts.

"Huh?" I said.

Frik smiled. "I asked you where you were, because I could see you are not here."

A sheepish grin spread over my face. "I was wondering what Charlotte was up to. I haven't seen her in over two months, and miss her."

Frik stared at me, and I could see the pity in his eyes. "Why don't you give her a call? There's a payphone in the administrations building."

I nodded. "Thanks. I'll check it out when we're done here."

"Talking about your work here, the kitchen staff sergeant is suspicious about the sections that come in for kitchen duty. He suspects they help themselves to stuff."

I laughed when Frankie disappeared around the corner with a bulge under his shirt. "He might have a point."

"The staff ordered me to take inventory of everything that comes in and out of the kitchen. I placed a few items in a box next to the freezer that didn't make it onto the list. The guys can take those."

I slapped Frik on the back. "Thanks."

When my squad was done in the kitchen, I made my way to the administrations building. The payphone was coin operated. I looked in my wallet, and only had three twenty cent coins. Not enough for a decent conversation.

I made my way back to the tent. "Guys, I need all the twenty cents you have."

"What for, Corporal?" Mike Tanner asked.

Fred slapped him against the arm. "The corporal wants to phone his goose."

Everyone dipped into their wallets, and with a handful of coins I made my way back to the phone. I filed Charlotte's number to memory a long time ago. With trembling hands I dialed her number.

On the second ring, her mother answered the phone. "Brown residence. How can I help you?"

"Hi, Mrs. B. It's Chris."

Her voice lit up. "Chris! This is a surprise. I hear we missed you over the weekend."

I sighed. "Yes." That's all I could say.

"You should've let us know in advance that you were coming home."

"Mrs. B, it's not that simple. They don't tell us until the last minute."

I could hear the smile in her voice. "I understand. I take it you want to speak to Charlotte?"

I sure as hell didn't phone to speak to her mother. "Yes. Is she there?"

Mrs. B hesitated. "Charlotte's gone to the doctor. She won't be back for another hour."

My voice filled with concern. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes. It is just for a checkup."

I glanced at my watch. "I'll try my best to phone back later."

The time dragged by, and after lunch, with the coins heavy in my pocket, I made my way back to the phone. Another section was on kitchen duty, which meant we had a free afternoon.

When I reached the phone, it was occupied. A lieutenant was on the phone to his mother. I waited, patiently on the outside, but my insides jumped up and down, urging him to get done. Twenty minutes later he hung up.

Once again, I dialed Charlotte's number. She must've been waiting next to the phone, because she picked up on the first ring. "Brown residence. This is Charlotte."

I closed my eyes and could picture her sitting on the couch next to the phone. "Hi honey."

Her voice was not nearly as excited as I hoped. "Hello, Chris."

I tried to ignore the nagging voice in the back of my head. "I heard you were at the doctor. Is something wrong?"

There was a slight pause. "Yes. I have some pain in my stomach, but the doctor reckons it is just an upset tummy. Sorry I wasn't here over the weekend. I didn't know you would be home."

I sighed. "I didn't know either. They don't tell us till the last moment, and even then we're not sure that they will not change their minds."

When Charlotte spoke again, she was close to tears. "Chris, this sucks. I miss you, and I need you here."

A feeling of helplessness washed over me. She was over four hundred kilometers away, but even if she weren't, I couldn't get to her. I might as well have been in jail.

"Hun, I miss you too, and wish I could be there with you right now," I said.

Charlotte sniffed. She didn't try to stop the tears anymore. "When will you get to come home again?"

I had the weight of the world on my shoulders. "Probably not until we get back to Bloemfontein. That's at least six weeks from now."

The tears were running freely now. "Well, at least I get to hear your voice."

I tried to speak past the lump in my throat. "We're out in the field for two days, and then have to return to base. So at least while we're here, I can phone you every third day."

She sniffed back her tears. "It is not much, but I'll take it."

We spent the next twenty minutes talking about what she did back home. She still attended college, and her parents took care of all her medical needs. I made a mental note to leave her money when I got to go home again.

My army pay wasn't much, but with my rank came a slight increase. I left most of my money in the bank, and planned to use it until I could get a job when I finished the army, but Charlotte needed it more.

By the time I hung up the phone, Charlotte was more upbeat, and I even got her to laugh. The fact that she would hear my voice again in three days time helped. Back at the base in Bloemfontein, it was almost impossible to get to the phones. There were only three payphones, and with thousands of people on the base that wanted to call home, the queues for the phones were crazy, and you were only allowed five minutes at a time.

"How did it go?" George asked when I returned to the tent.

"Not bad," I answered, but could not hide my smile.

That evening we received our rat packs for the next two days, but it didn't bother us. Between what we received from Frik, and what we got back at our TB, we were well organized.

Early the following morning we headed out to our temporary home. When we arrived on the farm, the workers were busy milking the cows, but there was no sign of Harry. I unlocked the door, and found the house exactly like we left it. We stowed our gear in our room before we headed out to do a patrol.

I asked George to drop us off near the river. Riding in the truck didn't allow us to observe as much as when we were on foot. At a few places we found footprints where people crossed the border illegally. I made notes of all the places we encountered, and planned to come back after dark.

We were investigating one of these crossings, when we heard the sound of a Jeep. Sergeant Major Wise came to check up on us. He visited all the sections in the field to ensure they were not up to mischief. At first I was amazed that he found us, but then I remembered that I filed an activity report for the day with Command.

"What is your section up to, Corporal?" he asked the moment the jeep stopped.

I indicated the footprints on the bank of the river. "We're checking for river crossings, sir." I showed him my notebook. "I'm making notes on them, and plan to come back tonight after dark. Maybe we can catch some of these people."

The Sergeant Major inquired about our TB. I called George to pick us up, and then we proceeded to the farmhouse. The Sergeant Major did an inspection of the house, and was satisfied that we kept the place neat and tidy.

"Of all the sections I've see thus far, you guys landed the best TB," he said. "I hope you guys keep it this tidy. I'll drop by from time-to-time to ensure you do."

If we ever lacked motivation to keep our place clean, the underlying threat in the Sergeant Major's voice was enough to keep us on the straight and narrow. Once his Jeep pulled out of the yard, I took the map from the truck, and spread it out on the kitchen table.

My section gathered around to hear the plan for the evening. I aligned my notes with the map, and marked where we've seen the footprints.

"If we come straight down from this farm toward the river, the people on the opposite side will see us coming. If George dropsus here," and I pointed to a point on the map two kilometers away from our destination, "it is hidden from their sight, and we might surprise them."

Frankie rubbed a hand over his hair. "That's a long walk in the dark, Corporal."

Several heads nodded in agreement, but I smiled at them. "After sitting on your ass for a few days in the back of the truck, I thought you would enjoy the exercise."

George cleared his throat. "I stay with the truck, right, Corporal?"

I nodded. "Yes, George, you stay with the truck."

George breathed easier.

"Once George drops us, we can walk along the road. It will be too dark to cut through the field. I don't want anybody to step on a snake by accident."

Rex swallowed loudly. "Did you say snake?"

I laughed. "Yes, Rex, snake. This is the wild out here."

"Damn glad we don't have to sleep in that barn again," Rex mumbled.

Once I outlined my simple plan, I rolled up the map. "I suggest we have something to eat, and then we need to get rest. We have a long night ahead of us."

I didn't get much rest. The weight of the forthcoming patrol weighed heavily on me. The others didn't quite realize it, but it could get dangerous out there. If we accosted a river crosser that was armed, he could kill one of us. Once he crossed over the river back into Lesotho, we couldn't touch him.

Barney, Fred, and Nick fixed dinner. With the vegetables from Frik's kitchen, they were able to put together an eatable stew.

Rex took a bite. "Corporal, isn't there a way we can get Frik with us on patrol?" He turned to the cooks. "No offense, guys."

They shrugged, well aware their cooking was nowhere near Frik's capabilities.

I dipped a piece of bread in the stew. "Under the circumstances, this is quite good."

Regardless of the quality of the food, everyone still preferred it to the rat packs. Once we finished our food and cleaned the kitchen, I gathered everyone around.

"Guys, I want no crazy stuff out there. This is not a game. Keep your eyes and ears open, and for God's sake, don't shoot anybody unless I tell you to."

My eyes rested on Rex when I said that, and he pulled a surprised face. "Why are you looking at me?"

Charlie and George laughed. "Because if there is shooting, you'll probably be involved."

As the sun touched the western horizon, we did a final weapons and equipment check. Everyone made sure that nothing in their outfit rattled. We needed to move in silence.

"Okay, it's time, boys," I said, and watched them pile into the back of the Samil. Their faces were filled with mixed emotions. I could see the anticipation, but also a hint of fear.

A kilometer from the drop site, George turned off the headlights, and continued in the dark. The two-track road was barely visible in the dark, but he managed to keep the truck on course.

"This is it, Corporal," George said when we reached the drop site.

I climbed from the cab, and closed the door, careful not to make any noise. Once the guys dismounted, I tapped the driver's door, and George took off. I waited until the sound of the truck disappeared, and then led the way. The path was not difficult to follow, but our boots made a crunching sound on the sand and gravel.

We reached the spot which I marked earlier. The tracks through the river passed between a clump of trees. I placed Rex with half the squad on one side, while I took up position with the rest of the guys on the other side.

The night air was cool, and we all wore our heavy coats. We heard a dog bark on the opposite side of the river, and in the distance, an owl hooted. The soft sloshing of water over the rocks did nothing to keep us awake.

After two hours of waiting, there was still no movement. I contemplated moving to another spot higher up the river, when I heard the sound of rocks bumping against each other.

In the dim light, I noticed two figures that made their way over the rocks. They paused on the bank, and when they didn't see any movement on the other side, crossed the river.

I glanced at Rex. Their group also noticed the men, and was ready to jump at them. The two walked and talked like they were walking on a regular road. I didn't understand what they said, but as they got closer, my heart beat increased.

Rex indicated that he would wait for my signal. The unsuspecting men walked carefree up the path. This was not the first time they crossed the river.

I let them reach the trees, and when they were between Rex and me, I jumped up. "Don't move, or I'll shoot!"

They never listen. We expected them to run. One turned back to the river, while the other jumped forward away from the water. They must have thought they would be harder to catch if the split into different directions.

"Cover me!" Frankie shouted, dropped his weapon, and tackled the one headed for the water.

Before he could get up again, I pressed the barrel of my rifle against his head. "Which part of 'don't move' didn't you understand?" Two, round eyes peered at me from a black face. Barney and Nick grabbed him before he could get over his shock.

Fred and Mike gave chase to the second guy, with Rex on their heels. For such big men, Fred and Mike moved surprisingly fast. Fred grabbed the man from behind, and yanked him back by the collar of his shirt. While his upper body was pulled back, his legs continued forward. This resulted in his legs trying to overtake his body, and he landed hard on his back.

He was still winded when Rex caught up to him and stabbed the barrel of his rifle into the man's chest. "Please move. I feel like shooting someone."

Chapter 7

With a soldier holding each arm, the two men stared at me with weary eyes. Rex and Charlie had them covered with their rifles. Rex's eyes almost begged the river crossers to try something.

"Where are your papers?" I asked.

They both reeked of cheap liquor. The man on the left was slightly taller than his companion. "We haven't got them with us."

"Let me guess, they're on the other side of the river?" I asked.

The shorter one shook his head fiercely. "No, the papers are in our room on the farm."

I frowned. "You work on a farm this side of the border?"

He nodded. "We stay on the Harris farm."

I shuddered. The rude woman we met on the first day was their employer. I stepped away a few paces, took the radio receiver and pressed the lever that enabled communications. "Bush Hog, this is Squirrel, over."

The code names were Charlie and Frankie's idea. Normally, we would use our call sign, but we were on our own frequency, and they thought it would be more fun. Another two tries, and there was no answer.

"I bet you he fell asleep," Charlie said.

That was not a bet I was willing to take. I pressed the lever again and shouted into the receiver. "George, wake up!"

A moment later, his confused voice crackled over the radio. "I'm here, I'm here. What's wrong?"

I shook my head and grinned at Charlie. "Yeah, he was definitely asleep." I pressed the lever again. "George, come pick us up. We caught someone."

His voice was filled with surprise. "Really? I'll be right there."

Within five minutes, George raced down the road. The truck bounced over the bumpy tracks, the engine whining in protest. He stopped near us with the truck's headlights shining on our group.

I glanced at our prisoners. Their eyes were bloodshot and filled with fear.

"Let's go find out if they're telling the truth. Load them up," I instructed, and watched them get tossed into the back of the truck. I climbed into the cab and looked at George. He couldn't look me in the eye.

"Do you think you can stay awake long enough to drive us to the Harris farm?" I asked.

George groaned, but didn't say a word. When we stopped on the farm, the house was engulfed in darkness, but security lights illuminated the yard. Two big, brown dogs barked at the gate, desperately trying to get through the fence to rip us apart.

I got out of the truck while Rex supervised the offloading of the perpetrators. I tried to figure out how to get past the dogs, when a light came on in the house.

Moments later the door opened, and Mrs. Harris stood there in her nightgown.Her long, gray hair was a mess, and she had an annoyed look on her face.

"Okay, that's enough," she yelled at the dogs. They ceased their barking immediately and ran to her side.

She glared at me. "What do you want this time of the night?"

I indicated the two that we captured. "They claim they work for you. We caught them crossing the border illegally. Do you know them?"

She stared at the two men, and anger spread across her face. "Gift, how many times have I told Joel and you not to go drinking over there? Maybe it's time I take a sjambok to your worthless asses."

The two took a step back. They were more scared of their angry employer than they were of the soldiers with the guns.

Mrs. Harris turned her attention back to me. "I suppose you want to see their papers?"

I nodded.

"Go get your papers, Gift," she scowled at the taller one.

He disappeared around the corner, and returned a few moments later with their identity documentation.

After a brief look I gave it back to them. "The papers are all in order."

She glared at me. "What do you plan to do with these two?"

According to our orders, I should hand them over to the military police at Ladybrand, who in turn would hand them over to the civilian police. If I did that, the woman would be out of two workers, and she would be even more upset with the military.

I turned to the workers. "Crossing the border illegally is a serious offense, and will cost you many years in jail."

The two stood there, clasping their hands in front of them, hanging their heads in shame.

I turned my attention to Mrs. Harris. "If you promise to keep them this side of the border, I will let them off with a warning this time. But if we catch them again, I won't be so lenient."

After a string of apologies from the workers, we headed back to our TB. I would leave the incident out of my report in the morning, but I hoped that it softened Mrs. Harris' stand toward the military.

The following morning when I reported to Control, I mentioned that we did a night patrol, but nothing happened. When asked what we planned for the day, I reported that we're doing a roadblock.

"A roadblock?" Frankie asked when I got off the radio. "Where do you plan to hold this?"

I pointed at the road that ran past the farm. "We can do it on this road. About two kilometers away at that dip is the perfect spot. You don't see anything until you're almost on it."

Frankie snorted. "Yeah, I know. There are also no cars on this road."

I flashed him a grin. "I didn't say I want to catch anybody. But we are required to do at least one roadblock this week."

After breakfast, we headed out to the site. George pulled the truck across so that it covered half the road. I set up stopper teams fifty meters away on either side. If anybody tried to slip past the roadblock, they acted as backup to stop them.

Two hours later we stopped our first car. It was a farmer on his way to Hobhouse. After a brief conversation, I let him pass.

"Shit, this is boring," Rex complained.

Charlie and Frankie played naughts and crosses on the road. They each had a stick which they used to draw in the dirt. George lay on top of the truck soaking up the early spring sun.

"There's a car coming," Fred yelled from the forward stopper position.

"Okay, look sharp," I said.

A few moments later, Sergeant Major Wise's Jeep swung into view. He stopped at the side of the roadblock, and got out of his vehicle. We all came to attention.

"As you were," he said, and looked at our setup. "Not bad. What do you do when somebody doesn't want to stop?"

I indicated Rex and Nick at their stopper position. "Happy Trigger over there will stop them."

The Sergeant Major smiled, well aware of Rex's fondness for firing weapons. Before we could continue, Fred yelled again. "Car coming!"

Everybody assumed their positions with the Sergeant Major watching with interest. A silver Mercedes-Benz rounded the corner. I recognized the driver as Steve Rogers.

I held up my hand, indicating him to stop. He rolled down his window with a sideward glance at the Sergeant Major.

"Good morning, Corporal Dempsey," he greeted.

I returned the greeting. "How are things on the farm, Steve?"

"It is quiet. Since you boys started to patrol the river, I haven't lost any stock. Keep up the good work." He frowned. "Why are you holding a roadblock here in the middle of the week? There's hardly any traffic."

I scratched the back of my neck. "So I've noticed."

He gave me a wink. "If you want to have fun, you should have your roadblock here on a Friday afternoon. Many of the farm workers go home for the weekend. They pack the busses with all kinds of things, a lot of it not quite legal."

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind," and with a friendly wave, I sent him on his way.

The Sergeant Major nodded his approval. "Sounds like you're building good relations with the locals. I hope you boys don't disappoint me like the two other sections I already had to chase around this morning."

My eyes widened at the veiled threat. "Eh, no, sir. We'll keep on our toes."

"See that you do, or I'll chase you and your squad so far that God won't be able to find you with binoculars," the sergeant major said with a smirk on his face.

We watched the departing dust trail.

"Exactly how far is that?" Charlie asked.

George shook his head. "I've no idea, but don't want to be the one to find out."

"Phew, it's getting warm out here," Frankie said, and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

I smiled at the subtle hint. "Okay, boys. Pack it up. I think that's enough road blocking for one day."

We piled into the truck and made our way back to the farmhouse.

Harry, the house owner, waited for us. "Do any of you boys know anything about horses?"

I pointed at Charlie. "His father owns a horse farm, and he's a good jockey."

Harry clapped his hands together. "Excellent. So you know your way around horses?"

When Charlie nodded, Harry pointed to the field on the far side of the milk shed. "I brought my horses out here. I don't have time to tend them in town. They need exercise. I was hoping you guys can take them out for a ride every now and again."

Charlie ran to the fence. In the field four horses graced lazily, swishing their tails. Two brown mares, and a gray, stood apart from the huge black stallion.

With sparkling eyes Charlie gripped the fence. "Wow, what a beauty!"

"There are saddles in the small shed behind the milk shed," Harry said.

After lunch, we had to do a patrol. Charlie, Frankie, Nick and myself, set out on horseback, while Rex took the rest of the squad with the Samil. They would start at the far end of the river, and meet us along the way.

After spending a weekend with Charlie on their farm, Frankie handled the horse like a regular horseman. Nick and I didn't know what we were doing, but after some instruction from Charlie, we were soon in the saddle.

In order for us to get used to the horses, we set off on a walk. I had my rifle slung over my back, and kept a tight grip on the reins in my left hand. Unlike Charlie and Frankie, who let their right hands dangle by their side, my right hand had a death grip on the edge of the saddle.My legs were stiff in the stirrups, and the saddle gave my ass a beating.

"Go with the rhythm of the horse," Charlie instructed.

That was easier said than done. After half an hour in the saddle, my ass was numb, but I started to get the hang of it. Charlie made it look so easy, but with his expert guidance, Nick and I were soon able to steer our horses.

We rode the animals to the river, and let them drink. I glanced down the river, and three hundred meters from our position, I noticed two figures darting into the trees.

"Eh, guys, there's movement down the river," I said.

Charlie stood up in his stirrups. "I see them, Corporal."

Nick and I would have broken our necks if we tried to give chase. "Charlie, you and Frankie chase them down. Nick and I will catch up."

The black stallion's ears peaked, sensing the nervous energy. He threw his head back, and his mane blew in the wind like a model's hair. The powerful muscles rippled through his body, and when Charlie touched the stirrups to his side, the response was eager and swift.

Frankie's brown mare set after them, but could not keep pace with the huge stallion. While Charlie and Frankie raced toward the crossers, Nick and I followed on a fast trot. We were not comfortable with a full gallop yet.

The two Sotho women wrapped in colorful blankets heard the galloping of the horses. They dropped their packages that they carried on their head, and ran toward the river. Charlie and Frankie raced to cut them off, but they were too far away.

The women splashed into the water. One tripped over a rock, and yelled as she went head first into the cold water. The other one turned and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her to her feet.

Charlie and Frankie stopped on the edge of the river.

"We can't follow," Frankie said.

The stallion reared onto its hind legs, kicking its front paws in the air. Charlie looked small on the back of the horse, but stood in the stirrups with ease. I steered the gray toward the dropped parcels.

I dismounted the horse, handed the reins to Nick, and untied the blanket. It was filled with various handmade wares the women hoped to sell to the farming communities. The two women stood on the other side of the river, shouting insults at us. Soon they were joined by others and formed a choir.

The people of Lesotho were a poor nation, and trading handmade wares to the farming communities on the border was a major source of income.

"Do we confiscate this stuff, Corporal?" Nick asked.

Charlie picked up a carved wooden statute of an African man. "It probably took them weeks to make this."

Although the women had no malicious intent, they still crossed the border illegally, and we were well within our rights to confiscate their wares, but that was not the right thing to do.

I walked to the edge of the water and stood with my hands on my hips. The crowd on the other side had grown to over twenty men, women, and children.

"Stay on your side of the river, and we won't have a problem," I yelled, but instead of agreeing, the shouting grew louder.

I walked to my horse, and got back into the saddle. "This is too big to carry on the horses. Leave it. Let's go see if we can find the others."

"Corporal, we can tie it onto one horse and I can ride double with someone else," Nick offered.

I stared at the two women, who were now on their knees, crying for their lost wares. They wanted to sell the stuff to feed their families.

I shook my head. "No, leave it!"

When we returned twenty minutes later with the truck, the parcels were gone.

Chapter 8

Unlike the rest of the section, I looked forward to get back to the base. The guys dreaded a day of peeling potatoes and washing dishes, but I would be able to speak to Charlotte. After we dumped our gear in the tent, we reported to the kitchen.

Frik was glad to see us. He greeted his friends with a shake of the hand, and a huge smile.

After he handed out tasks for everyone, he pulled me to the side. "Chris, you guys better watch out for Sergeant Major Wise. He's on the rampage."

I frowned. "Why?"

Frik shrugged. "Word is that he caught quite a few sections that goofed around. He now even has the platoon sergeants keeping an eye on the guys with regular visits. The people that were caught got fucked up big time. Charlie section from platoon three was in base yesterday, and when they left this morning, could hardly walk."

I pulled my face in sympathy. "Thanks for the warning. I'll let the guys know."

After relaying what Frik said, I took a seat at the table near the door where I had a clear view to anybody approaching. Nobody was going to catch our section unaware. But I need not fear. None of the guys felt like doing any more physical exercise than what was necessary, and made sure they were on their best behavior in the base.

Twice the sergeant major came to check on us, but every time he found everyone hard at work. Instead of improving things, it seemed to put him in a fouler mood. He looked for a reason to fuck us up, but we didn't provide him one.

At lunch time, I scoffed down my food, and made a bee-line for the phone with a pocket filled with twenty cent coins. I breathed a sigh of relief when there was no one at the phone.

Unlike my previous call, I turned the dial with eagerness, hungry to hear Charlotte's honey-like voice. A noise clicked from the receiver against my ear as the call was routed between telephone exchanges. For a moment there was a slight pause, and then it started to ring.

On the third ring, Charlotte answered. "Brown residence, Charlotte speaking, how may I help you?"

Her sweet voice melted my knees. "Hi, Honey. Do you miss me?"

Charlotte's voice exploded with a burst of happiness. "Chris! I wasn't sure if you would be able to call today. I kept hoping, but the phone rang already twice before, and it wasn't you."

The joy in her voice warmed my heart. "I rushed straight to the phone after lunch. How do you feel?"

She sighed. "A little tired, but that is expected. So tell me, what have you been up to?"

We spent the next twenty minutes swapping stories, and every time I told her something funny, her crystal-clear laugh enriched my soul. I didn't even notice that a line had formed with other people that wanted to use the phone.

Only when the lieutenant cleared his throat, did I become aware of them.

"Eh, honey, I need to go. Other people also want to use the phone. We're going out tomorrow for two days, but I will phone you again when we get back to base."

We said our goodbyes, and I hung up the phone.

"About bloody time," the lieutenant groaned.

I made my way back to our tent. When I entered, I still had a smile plastered on my face.

"It looks like that went well," Rex remarked.

"Yip, it did," I confirmed.

I shared the information about Charlotte's health, and that I looked forward to speaking to her again in three days.

My mind was occupied with Charlotte most of the morning, so I didn't pay much attention as to what the guys were up to. "I hope you didn't raid the kitchen again? Frik says they inspect the trucks before we go out into the field."

George shook his head. "No, but it's not necessary. The pantry on the farm is better stocked than Frik's kitchen."

I laughed. "Don't let Frik hear you say that. He might think you're ungrateful."

The next morning I was thankful for Frik's warning. After we collected our rat packs, we lugged our gear to the truck, but were stopped by two corporals. Not only was the truck searched for any hidden contraband, but also our gear.

When they didn't find any, they were quite upset, and yelled all kinds of insults at us. After a five minute tirade, we were allowed to load our gear. When we drove through the main gate, we were all glad to be out of the base.

We could hear Sergeant Major Wise scream at the newly arrived sections, and caught a glimpse of people running toward the rugby field for some early morning physical torture.

"Damn, I'm glad we're not those guys," George said, and pushed down on the accelerator.

When we stopped at the farm house to dump our gear in our sleeping quarters, we found the room as we left it. All the mattresses stacked in a neat pile in the corner, the wooden floor shining with the early morning sun that filtered through the curtains.

I decided to do a patrol down the river, more to establish visibility than anything else. The people on the other side of the river kept constant watch. If they don't see any soldiers for a few days, they will raid the farmer's stock. Our presence curbed the thefts.

We stopped at a couple of farms to inquire about illegal crossers, but the farmers reported that everything was quiet since we started to patrol the border. When we arrived on the Harris farm, Mrs. Harris stood in the middle of the yard shouting insults at an unfortunate worker.

George glanced at me. "Maybe we should skip this one."

I sighed. Our two previous visits didn't go well.

When I stepped out of the truck, she glared at me. "What do you want?"

I smiled the friendliest smile I could muster. "Good morning, Mrs. Harris. How are you on this fine morning?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you patronizing me, young man?"

I had a look of surprise on my face. "I would never dream of it."

She shook her head. "I take it you're here to check up on the two drunks? They haven't crossed the border again. I told them if I catch them, they can look for another job."

They had a healthy respect for their employer, and probably feared her more than the soldiers.

I smiled. "That's good to know, but I just wanted to check if everything was alright here."

She groaned. "Now I know you're patronizing me."

I laughed. "Have a good day, Mrs. Harris."

Mrs. Harris held up a hand. "Corporal, wait! I have something for you."

She disappeared into the house, and emerged a few moments later carrying a large round cake tin. "I made too much. Maybe you and your men would like these?"

I opened the tin, and stared at the freshly baked crunchies. The smell of the cookies made my mouth water.

"What's wrong with them?" I asked with a look of mock suspicion.

Her face filled with indignation. She stepped forward, but before she could say anything, I ran for the truck with the tin tucked under my arm.

"Thank you, Mrs. Harris. I will return your tin when we're done," I said as I climbed into the truck.

She turned away, but I caught a glimpse of a smile that flashed across her face.

"What's that?" George asked.

I could already hear Rex getting restless in the back of the Samil. "You better drive to the TB, so we can make coffee and share this, before we have a riot on our hands."

Once we arrived back at the farm house, Charlie and Frankie made coffee. I placed the tin in the middle of the table.

"Compliments of Mrs. Harris. Enjoy," I said.

Ten hands reached for the same tin. I grabbed a crunchy, and withdrew my hand before it was snatched by someone else. I bit into the cookie. The oats and coconut mixed with syrup and flour, baked to perfection, melted in my mouth.

"Oh God, thithith good," Rex said with a full mouth.

The others nodded while they grabbed another. There was enough that we each had eight cookies. Once the tin was empty, Rex gathered all the crumbs in the tin. He tipped it into his hand, and I watched it disappear into his mouth.

I smiled at Rex. "Seeing that you got the last bits of cookie, you can wash the tin. We can return it on our afternoon patrol."

We boarded the Samil, and as we left the yard, a military Jeep stopped ahead. Corporals Dye and Lewis came to check up on us. Thanks to Frik's warning, we were prepared, and made sure we were all dressed neat like the military demanded.

"Where are you headed?" Corporal Lewis inquired, while Corporal Dye inspected the guys in the back of the truck.

"We're going to do a patrol along the river," I replied.

They both eyed us suspiciously, but like the corporals earlier that morning, could find nothing wrong. Looking miserable, they waved us away. When we stopped at the first fence, Charlie jumped down to open the gate.

George stopped next to him and I hung out the window. "Charlie, tell the guys to stay sharp back there. I have a feeling those corporals are not done with us yet."

By the third gate, Frankie nodded his head toward a ridge to our left. It was high above us, but between the trees, the brown Jeep was visible.

"I am not sure what they expect us to do, but they're going to be disappointed," George growled.

They followed us around for another half an hour before they gave up and headed to the next section.

We completed our patrol down the river without incident. Other than a few foot prints from the previous night, we found nothing. Without a proper fence and constant patrols, it was impossible to stop the illegal crossings, but at least our presence curbed it, and limited the stock thefts to the local farmers.

On our way back, we stopped at the Harris farm. Mrs. Harris stood in the doorway, and leaned on the bottom half of her stable door.

"I just wanted to return this. It was delicious, thank you," I said, and handed her the empty tin.

She grinned. "That didn't take long."

I returned the smile. "Did you see the young vultures in the back of that truck?"

This time Mrs. Harris laughed out loud, and the joy in her eyes made her look a few years younger.

"Our TB is on Harry Johnson's farm. If you need anything, or there's any trouble, send someone to call us, and we'll be here in no time," I said.

She stared at me with her big, brown eyes, which seemed alive and full of life, much younger than her age. "Thank you, Corporal. I'll keep that in mind."

Having won over Mrs. Harris had a roll-on effect in the rest of the community. Between the word that was spread by her, Steve Rogers, and Harry Johnson, the rest of the farms were more receptive of our presence.

The only one that still treated us like we were the scourge, was Ralph Banner. Every time we passed by his place, he yelled at me and accused us of leaving gates open and letting his cattle out to adjacent fields.

When I mentioned him to Harry, he pulled a sour face. "Old man Banner is a piece of work. He was always a grumpy bugger, but since his wife passed away a few years ago, got worse. I suggest that you stay away from his place."

We couldn't avoid his farm all together, as we had to pass through the bottom section every time we did a patrol along the river. I made sure that the gates were latched after we passed through, but he still was not satisfied.

A few times he even waited by the last gate to hurl insults at us. I think it became a daily pastime for him, something to do. It must have been the highlight of his miserable existence.

Once he realized that he couldn't goad us, he went as far as to report to our superiors that we're leaving gates open on his farm. He even alleged that he lost stock because of it. The following day, after we had breakfast, the Sergeant Major arrived at the farm in his Jeep. Corporal Dye was with him.

He glared at me. "We've been receiving reports that your section's been leaving gates open, and that you're letting livestock run wild."

I groaned. "Let me guess. The reports were from old man Banner?"

The Sergeant Major frowned. "In fact it is. How did you know?"

I snorted. "Sergeant Major, that old coot is crazy. He's always giving us a hard time. I make sure the gates are always properly latched when we go through them."

"I had a chat to a few of the other farmers, and they have no issue with you and your squad. They actually talk quite highly of you, which is why I'm not fucking you up on the spot. But to ensure that the reports are not true, Corporal Dye will accompany you today."

I swallowed, and had to work hard to control my anger that boiled to the surface. "I understand, Sergeant Major."

A few minutes later the sergeant major left, and I informed the squad of the development. They shared my anger.

"Why would he do something like this? We'd never done anything to bring him any harm," Rex raged.

"Okay, calm down," I intervened when a few others started to hurl obscenities toward Mr. Banner. "This is the situation as it is, and Corporal Dye will ride with us today."

Corporal Dye did not look happy with the arrangement either. It meant he had to spend the night out with us, and would only return to base the following morning along with us.

"What are your plans for the day?" he asked.

"We're doing a patrol along the river this morning to check for any sign of crossers, and then we'll visit a few farms to check if there were any thefts or intruders during the night. After lunch we'll have a roadblock on this road. I received intel that on a Friday afternoon, the farm workers go home in busses, and sometimes their cargo is not legal."

Corporal Dye shrugged. "That sounds good. What're we waiting for? Let's get going."

I had to share the cab with him, so I squeezed in to the front between him and George. The driver gave me a glance and sighed, before he started the truck and we set off toward the river.

Chapter 9

George steered the truck along the two-track dirt road. It was a bumpy ride, but the Samil's suspension was designed to cope with the rough terrain, and minimized its effects. Through the trees, the Caledon River was visible.

On the opposite bank, Lesotho women gathered to do their laundry. When they noticed the truck, they waved their arms and shouted insults at the soldiers in their native tongue.

"What's their problem?" Corporal Dye asked.

I shrugged. "Us. They have an intense dislike for the soldiers. They taunt and shout insults at us every opportunity they get."

Corporal Dye glanced at me. "Don't you get tired of it? Don't you just want to drive over there and sort them out?"

I looked at George and laughed. "That thought had crossed my mind a few times, but I am well aware of the repercussion such an incident will cause."

Corporal Dye had a slight smile on his lips. It was a test.

I pointed at the gate as we approached. "This is the last gate before we reach the Banner farm."

Frankie jumped down, opened the gate, and waved us through. The corporal watched with interest, but Frankie closed the gate and made sure it was latched in place and secure.

When we approached the next gate, it stood halfway open. Several sheep had wandered through onto the Harris farm.

"What the hell?" George said.

I pointed to a lonely figure walking up the hill in the distance. "The old coot probably opened it himself."

George looked at me. "What now?"

"Stop the truck," I said.

I got out and ordered the guys to chase the sheep back onto Banner's property. The animals knew where they belonged, and made their way back without much fuss. Once all the sheep were back on their own land, I latched the gate, and jumped back into the vehicle. Corporal Dye had to move up, and was now seated between George and me.

We continued and reached the boundary of our patrol area. George turned the truck, and we headed away from the river. As we approached the nearest farm house, a big, bearded man with a huge beer belly walked over to greet us.

"Good morning, Mr. Russell," I said.

The farmer looked angry. "Morning, Corporal. These illegal fuckers stole one of my prize ewes. She's pregnant and due in a few weeks."

He lit a Chesterfield, and blew a big plume of smoke into the air. "If I get my hands on them, I'll rip them apart."

My mind worked quickly. I saw an opportunity. "Sorry to hear that, sir. We're due back at the base tomorrow morning to resupply. I'll see if we can head back here tomorrow afternoon, then we can set up night surveillance. Maybe they'll come again, but this time we'll be waiting."

The big man nodded. "Thank you, Corporal. Your efforts are much appreciated."

As we drove away, I turned to Corporal Dye. "Corporal, will it be possible?"

He stared at me for a moment. "I'll talk to the Sergeant Major when we get back to base. Maybe he'll allow your section out after your kitchen stint."

I smiled. Not only will that get us off the base, but I'll also have a chance to phone Charlotte.

We visited a few other farms, but nothing else was reported. Around noon, I decided to stop for lunch. With Corporal Dye with us, we couldn't head back to our TB for a proper lunch, and had to settle for a meal from our rat packs.

"That was some sharp thinking back there on the Russell farm," George said as he took a bite from a dog biscuit.

Rex stared at his rat pack in disgust. "Why what happened?"

I glanced at Corporal Dye, who picked through his rations, sitting on a rock away from the rest of us. "There's too much shit going on at the base, so I'm trying to get us back out here as soon as possible. Corporal Dye said he would speak to Sergeant Major Wise."

Rex's face lit up. "That'll be great. We just need to ditch the babysitter."

"Yeah, hopefully he will move on to one of the other sections," Charlie said.

Rex shook his head. "I still don't know what possessed Mr. Banner to talk shit about us."

Frankie tied the ends of the plastic bag containing his energy drink, and shook it. "Maybe he's lonely, and this is his way to get attention."

"If he wants company, he should rather invite us over for a braai and a beer," George said.

"Then he would have to give something for free, and I can't see the miserable old sod doing that," Rex growled.

We managed to win Mrs. Harris over, but I saw no way to gain favor with Mr. Banner. Some people just liked being miserable.

After lunch, we headed to the same place where we had the first roadblock. Although it was much busier than before, by city standards, the road remained deserted. Having three cars an hour come past, hardly constitutes peak traffic. If one of the local farmers watched it, they would have said, "This road is extremely busy today."

When a bus loaded with passengers showed up, we got excited. Even Corporal Dye, who up to that point showed little to no enthusiasm, assisted in the search. We made all the passengers disembark, and lined them up next to the bus.

While Corporal Dye, myself, George and Charlie searched the inside of the bus, Rex and the rest of the squad check the people's papers. It wasn't the first time they went through a roadblock, and they cooperated without much fuss.

We started our search in the front of the bus, and worked our way to the back. Just when I thought our search would reveal nothing, Charlie jumped up.

"Ahatsa! What do we have here?" he said, and lifted a plastic shopping bag stuffed full of marijuana.

He handed me the bag, and I took it out to the passengers. "Who does this bag belong to?"

For half an hour we interrogated the people, but no one had ever laid eyes on that bag. They were not even aware that it was on the bus. In a last ditch effort to find the perpetrator, I ordered the passengers to take their seats on the bus.

"Unbelievable," George said. "The bus is packed, but nobody was seated there."

The seat underneath which Charlie found the package remained empty. I realized we would never uncover who the drugs belonged to, although I was sure the young man who sat squeezed between three other passengers and looked like he was about to burst into tears, had something to do with it.

I waved at the driver, and they departed. Corporal Dye looked impressed with the find, and clung onto the bag.

As we walked back to our truck, George shoved Charlie. "What the hell is 'ahatsa'?"

Charlie shrugged. "I have no idea. I wanted to say something cool, and that was the first thing that popped into my head."

It might have been a made-up word, but it would stick. For the rest of our military career, if anyone in our squad came upon something unexpected, they said, "Ahatsa!" It drove the other section's insane, but it was our inside joke.

The rest of the afternoon there was very little traffic on the road. Word had spread, and even the local farmers avoided the roadblock. Satisfied with our effort, we headed back to our TB.

When we reached the farm house, as we walked in, we placed our unused tins of meat from our rat packs on the table before we stashed our weapons and battle webbing in our room.

"What's this?" Corporal Dye inquired.

"George and Charlie are cooking supper tonight. They will use that for the stew. It goes well with pap," Rex answered.

Corporal Dye looked confused. "What pap?"

I showed him the bag of maize Harry left for us, which lit up his eyes.

"Are you in, Corporal?" I asked.

He looked at his half eaten rat, and sighed. "I'm in," he said with a smile, and dropped an unopened tin of steak and onions on the pile.

While George and Charlie cooked supper, Frankie and I took care of the horses. I told the workers that we would be back the following afternoon, and they agreed to take the horses out in the morning. They would only lead the black stallion. Nobody but Charlie dared to get on his back.

The rest of the squad gathered firewood, and built a bonfire in the yard. They arranged enough seating in a circle around the fire. When the food was ready, we each grabbed a plate, and took a seat around the fire, talking about the happenings of the day.

Corporal Dye's presence ensured that the conversation was more subdued than normal. We all made sure that we didn't say anything that could later be used against us, but Corporal Dye seemed relaxed and even joined in the conversation. We saw a side of him that we had never seen before. It wouldn't last. As soon as we would get back to the base, he would be his normal, grumpy self.

The next morning, we were up early and had a quick cup of coffee, before we ensured the farm house was spotless. We could never leave anything behind when we headed back to base, because we never knew when it was our last time there.

"I think of all the sections, you guys have the best TB," Corporal Dye said.

"It's not much, but it's our home away from home," Rex said.

George snorted at Rex's comment. "Corporal Dye, I think you should check that stash."

For a moment the corporal looked shock, but when we laughed, he relaxed, and even managed to crack a smile.

We left the farmhouse and headed back to base. The moment we stopped, we heard Sergeant Major Wise's voice thundering from somewhere in the compound.

"Shit, we better be on our best behavior," Rex said.

Frankie spoke under his breath so that Corporal Dye couldn't hear. "Corporal, you better get us out of here soon. I don't like the sound of that."

I nodded. "Rex, take the squad and leave the gear in the tent. Then head over to the kitchen, I'll meet you there."

I walked with Corporal Dye to the control room to report our return. Corporal Dye had the bag of marijuana clutched under his left arm. As we rounded the corner near the control room, I almost bumped into the sergeant major.

He glared at me with dark brown eyes that looked like he was out for murder. "Dempsey! You finally made it back. I've been waiting for you."

I didn't like the sound of that.

He turned his attention to Corporal Dye. "Well? What have you found? Is there any value to the complaint against them?"

Corporal Dye shook his head. "No, Sergeant Major. It appears the old man leaves the gates open, and then blames them. We got to one gate and found it open with his sheep in the adjacent field. They chased the sheep back and locked the gate in place. I did spot Mr. Banner walking up the hill from the gate."

The Sergeant Major's growl reminded me of a hungry bear. "The bastard phoned in another complaint yesterday afternoon. He said the gate was left open and that his sheep was on the Harris property. This explains it. What do you have there?"

Corporal Dye handed him the bag of drugs. "They confiscated it in a roadblock. It was on a bus, but the owner mysteriously disappeared."

Sergeant Major Wise stared at me with his piercing eyes. "What a pity."

He opened the bag and looked at the contents. For a brief moment, I had the urge to tell him to smoke some of that stuff. It might help him to chill, but I didn't want to spend the rest of my military career with my head stuck up my ass.

The Sergeant Major handed the package to me. "Hand it in at Control and file the report of your finding."

He turned to leave, but Corporal Dye remembered my request. "Excuse me, Sergeant Major."

"What?" he said as he stopped and turned around.

Corporal Dye informed him about the pregnant ewe incident and my request for a night operation. The sergeant major glared at me, but I managed to hold his stare.

"When's your squad on kitchen duty?" he asked.

"They're headed there now," I said.

"Fine. You can leave after lunch. Corporal Dye, tell the store I authorized an extra day's worth of rations for them."

I rushed over to control to file my report, and handed over the bag of drugs. On my way to the kitchen, I passed the administrations building. On the spur of the moment, I ducked inside, and found the telephone unoccupied.

I dialed Charlotte's number. The phone started to ring, and I looked around for any rank that might give me trouble, but there was none. I let the phone ring for a good two minutes, but there was no answer.

With a frown, I replaced the receiver. That was weird. There was always someone at Charlotte's house to answer the phone. Maybe I dialed the wrong number. I tried again, but for a second time, there was no answer.

An uneasy feeling formed in the pit of my stomach. I tried to convince myself that they're just out to the shop or something, but it was too early in the morning for that. For a moment I considered phoning my mother, but I couldn't ask for her help without telling her the reason for my concern.

"Nah, I'm just being silly," I said aloud, but was unable to convince myself.

I walked to the kitchen, and the feeling in my stomach grew to the point that it made my hands tremble.

When I stepped into the mess hall, Frik frowned when he saw the concern on my face. "Chris, is everything alright?"

I shrugged. "I tried to phone Charlotte, but there's no answer, which is strange. There's always someone at their house."

"Maybe they're outside and didn't hear the phone," Frik said, trying to soothe my fears.

I nodded, but the feeling in my stomach didn't subside. It grew to the point where it made me feel nauseous. Unable to explain it, I took a seat in the corner and watched as my squad tackled a mountain of potatoes.

An hour later, I snuck back into the admin building, but there was still no answer at Charlotte's house.

Chapter 10

Time dragged until lunch. I made sure to be at the front of the line, grabbed my food, and hurried to a table near the door. The food was quick to disappear down my throat. Rex was only a few people behind me in the queue, but by the time he reached the table, I was done.

My friend understood my concern. I moved to take my plate to go drop it into the bucket, but Rex shook his head. "Don't worry. I'll get your plate. Go phone her."

"Thank you," I mumbled, and headed for the door.

With everyone in the mess hall, the phone was free. My hand trembled when I lifted the receiver and dialed Charlotte's number. I let it ring for a good two minutes before I pushed the lever down, paused for three seconds, waited until I got a dial tone, and redialed her number.

There was still no answer, and now I was really worried. Charlotte's parents had her when they were both in their forties. Now they were in their sixties, and all kinds of scenarios ran through my mind. Did something happen to any of them? Maybe her sister, or did something happen to one of the brothers?

The bellowing voice of Sergeant Major Wise somewhere outside yanked me back to reality. I slipped out of a side door, and made my way around the back of the building to the front where the trucks were parked.

We already collected our rations before lunch time. The squad was loaded and ready to go.

"I loaded your gear, and here's your rifle," Rex said.

"We better get out of here before Hagar gets a hold of us," Frankie pleaded.

I frowned. "Who's Hagar?"

"Sergeant Major Wise. I heard some of the other platoons call him that. You know, after Hagar the horrible," Frankie explained.

As if he heard his name, Hagar let go with another volley of insults on the other side of the building.

I jumped into the truck. "Get us the hell out of here."

The driver didn't wait to be asked twice. He started the truck, and a few seconds later, we were on our way to the farm house.

George glanced at me. "Did you manage to get hold of her?"

I shook my head and looked rather miserable.

"You told me before that they like to go away as a family over weekends. Maybe they went somewhere," George said.

My smile didn't reach my eyes, but I was thankful for a friend that tried to cheer me up. As much as I told myself that everything would be alright, I couldn't get rid of the knot in my stomach.

When we reached the farm house, Harry was there.

"I thought you were having a rest day?" he said.

Rex groaned. "How are we supposed to get any rest with a maniac on the loose in the base?"

Harry frowned at me and cocked his head sideways, asking the question with his eyes.

"The Sergeant Major is on a war path," I explained.

"Ah, I see," Harry said. "How did you manage to get away?"

"Mr. Russell lost a sheep to crossers. I want to do a night patrol tonight in case any of them come back for more."

Harry clicked his tongue. "I heard about that. It was one of Craig Russell's favorite ewes. His wife made the remark that he wouldn't even miss her that much."

I smiled. News was quick to spread in the small farming community. I had work to do, and had to put my own misery to the back of my mind. When we get back to the base, I would be able to call Charlotte, and I already made up my mind that if I can't get hold of her again, that I would phone my mother. It meant that I would have to tell her everything, but if that was what it took, then so be it.

I gathered the squad, and drew a rough outline of the Russell farm and the river in the dirt. "If we come down the hill, they would be able to see us coming as soon as we turn off the main road."

"What if I kill the truck's lights in the dip before the turnoff? We can then approach in the dark and I can drop you off quite close to the river. You shouldn't have to walk more than a kilometer," George offered.

"You can't even drive straight in daylight," Charlie said, and ducked under the swinging arm.

"There's no cloud cover, and there'll be enough of a moon to give us enough visibility without been seen from the river," Frankie said.

Nobody even bothered to ask Frankie how he knew that. We accepted a long time ago that Frankie was a walking encyclopedia.

In preparation for our night patrol, I allowed everyone to have an afternoon nap while I worked on my final plans for the night. By 5PM I made sure everyone was awake, and Fred and Mike went to work on fixing supper.

After our meal, we cleaned our weapons and made a final equipment check. Although there was no violence on the Lesotho border, there was always a threat that someone might pull a gun and start shooting. When bullets started to fly, you didn't want to find out your rifle refused to fire because it was dirty.

When I finished my meal, I walked to the truck, and Frankie came around the corner. He had diagonal black stripes painted across his face.

"What the hell happened to you?" I asked.

Frankie smiled. "Camouflage."

"I can see that, but where did you get camo paint out here? I can't remember it being issued."

He pointed to the fire pit. "Crushed charcoal mixed with water works just as well. There's still some left, Corporal."

I held up my hands. "Eh, thanks. I will pass."

When the rest of the squad walked out, they all had their faces painted, everyone except George. He would be waiting with the truck and saw no need for smearing his face with gunk.

I smirked. "Now that you're all ready for the operation, let's get going."

"We practiced this stuff in basics, but never get the opportunity to use it. We might as well try it tonight," Rex said.

"Bunch of bloody Rambos," George growled.

We waited until it was dark, and then headed down the dirt road. It was a cloudless night, and the quarter moon sat high in the sky. When George turned off the truck's headlights, he found that Frankie was correct in his prediction.

There was enough light from the moon and stars that he could follow the road with ease. He couldn't speed down the road, but at a slow pace, he could stay on it without running into anything.

George turned the truck into the side road that led to the Russell farm. Craig Russell was aware that we would pass through his farm that night. I didn't want anybody to start shooting at us thinking we were rustlers.

George parked the truck between two outbuildings, well out of the view from any curious eyes.

We dismounted, and I whispered to George. "Stay awake tonight and be alert. If I call you on the radio, be ready to come to our assistance."

His low growl indicated he hadn't forgotten the last time he let me down. We set off toward the river in single file with Frankie in the lead. I followed behind him with the moon providing enough light that I could make out his form in the dark.

An owl hooted in the distance, followed by a sharp animal scream. We all dropped to our knees.

"What the fuck was that?" Rex asked in a whisper.

Charlie chuckled. "Relax. It's the sound of a fox calling its mate."

Rex snorted. "Sounds more like someone stepped on its tail."

"Okay, cut it out," I ordered, but couldn't hide the smile from my voice. I tapped Frankie on the shoulder. "Let's go."

When we reached the riverside, all was quiet. Too quiet. As we approached, the little night creatures that made a fuss all night long along the river, scurried into hiding. If anyone paid attention, it's a dead give-away that someone's approaching.

We walked a patrol of five hundred meters next to the river, when Frankie held up his arm in a raised fist, the sign to halt. We dropped to our knees, and my eyes darted on the opposite bank, but I saw nothing.

"What is it?" I asked Frankie.

He pointed to something on the ground. "Here's a well-used footpath."

I stared at the grass and noticed the well trampled path. It wasn't visible from the nearby dirt road, which was why we never noticed it before. In the dim moonlight it was difficult to tell, but I found footprints in a bare patch of sand, both human and animal.

There were no trees in the immediate vicinity, which made it difficult to set up an ambush. There was only dried grass, but it stood about knee-high. I followed the path away from the river.

A plan started to form in my mind. If someone crossed the river, they would probably follow the path, and would feel secure because there were no trees to hide behind. It would be easy for nine camouflaged soldiers to disappear in the grass. If done correctly, a camouflaged soldier was difficult to find in daylight. At night, it would be impossible.

I smiled and called the group together to explain my plan. It seemed Rex was correct. We would be able to put our training into practice that night.

We moved a hundred meters away from the ambush site, and as quiet as possible, we went to work on our body camouflage. We picked dry grass and stuck it in our webbing, our belts, and our bush hats.

Half an hour later, each person looked like a walking clump of grass. We moved back to the ambush spot, and I placed Rex and three others on one side of the path, while I settled in with the rest on the other side.

Their camouflage was well done. A crosser could almost step on them and not notice that they were there. I lay down in the dry grass, and pulled my coat tighter around me. The early spring air was cold and seeped through my clothes.

The night creatures got used to our presence, and one-by-one they restarted their symphony. The seconds ticked by slowly, but there was no movement on either side of the river.

An hour later, I heard a sharp slap to my right. "Frankie, what the hell are you up to?" I asked in a hushed tone.

"Nothing, Corporal. I had to slap myself to stay awake," he whispered in reply.

"Try pinching yourself instead. It's a lot quieter."

Five seconds later Charlie yelped. "Ouch!"

"Now what?" I asked.

Charlie rubbed the top of his hand. "Pinching hurts."

At that moment, I noticed movement on the other side of the river. "Shush. There's movement in Lesotho."

Everyone was alert and scanned the river bank. A group of people gathered on the edge of the river. Six dark figures moved closer to the water. Four of the shapes carried big parcels on their heads.

"Don't make a move until I give the order," I hissed through clenched teeth.

Two steps from the water they stopped and lowered the parcels. One person crossed the river, and walked up the path. He stopped right in front of us and scanned the area. He was so close, I could smell him, a mixture of sweat, dirt, and cheap beer.

The wild beating of my heart sounded in my ears, and for a moment I was convinced the crosser could hear it. He stood there like a silent statue, searching the area for anything out of place.

Satisfied that the coast was clear, he walked back to the edge of the water. With a soft whistle, he indicated to the others that they could cross. They lifted their parcels onto their heads, and walked over the slippery rocks to the other side.

I was amazed by the balance the four carriers showed to keep the large packages on their heads. With every step they took, they moved closer to us. As they made their way through the river, they started to climb the steep slope up the bank.

I could now see the shapes of the people. The two that didn't carry parcels were men, and the four with the parcels on their head, women. The two men stood on top of the slope and gave the women a hand to reach the top.

One of the men took the lead and brought them up the path, while the other brought up the rear. The leader reached our position and walked forward without any suspicion. I wanted to wait until the last person was past us before I took them. That would cut off their escape route back to the river.

Even the best laid plans don't always go the way they should. The last person was still a few steps away, when a loud, rumbling sound shattered the silence. It sounded like a big-rig truck coming down a steep hill using its air-brakes.

I jerked my head to the right. Barney Alexander had a nervous stomach, and the tension got too much. His loud fart stopped the crossers in their tracks.

I jumped up with my weapon ready. "Nobody move or I'll shoot!"

By the time I got to my feet, the two men were already in full sprint headed to the river. The sharp, shrill scream of the terrified women pierced the night.

"After them," I ordered Rex.

Rex, Frankie, and Barney set off after them, but they were too late. Water splashed as the two ran through the shallow water. We surrounded the women, who stared at us with wide, frightened eyes.

They still had their parcels on their head, but with their trembling legs, might have dropped them any second.

"Lower the parcels to the ground," I ordered, but the women didn't understand.

I motioned with my weapon, pointed to the parcels, and indicated the ground. One of them snapped what I meant, and instructed the other three in Sotho. They lowered their parcels and dropped to their knees, glaring at me with teary eyes.

Rex and the others returned. "They're gone," Rex said. "What now?"

I fished a flashlight from my webbing. "Let's see what these four carried across the river."

Chapter 11

Each of the parcels consisted of an assortment of handmade items that was folded in a blanket and tied on top to hold it together. Three of the packages contained nothing but handmade wares, but in the fourth, among the pieces of craft, were two bags the size of a football, tightly wrapped with packing tape.

I tore a small hole in the side, and the unmistakably smell of marijuana hit my nose.

I held the two packages out to the women. "Whose drugs are these?"

They shook their heads, and all four started to talk at once, but I didn't understand a word.

I lifted the radio receiver from my webbing. "George, come in."

After waiting a few seconds, there was no response. "George, are you there? Over."

But there was still no response. "Damn it, George, if you're sleeping again I'm going to piss in your ear!"

A voice crackled over the radio. "I'm here, Corporal. I'm wide awake."

He was out of breath.

"George, what the hell's going on there?" I asked.

"Sorry, Corporal. I ran around the truck to keep awake. When I heard the radio, I jumped for the door, but my foot slipped, and I hit the side of the truck with my shoulder."

I rolled my eyes to the sky when a thought struck me. I pressed the lever on the radio. "Wait a minute. Did you say that you ran around the truck?"

George took a moment to respond. "Okay, you got me. I walked around the truck."

Rex and a few of the others tried to contain their laughs, but snorted in the process.

I shook my head. "Never mind. Get your ass over here. We caught someone."

"Really? I'm on my way," George said.

I glanced at Rex. "Why does he sound so surprised?"

Rex shrugged.

I turned my attention to Barney, who was secretly hoping that I forgot about him. "What on earth possessed you to fart in the middle of an operation?"

He scratched the back of his head. "Eh, sorry, Corporal. It just slipped out."

"You can be damn lucky those guys were not armed. Next time, stick your finger in your ass if you have to, but you don't make a peep during an operation. You can get us all killed."

Shock crossed his face. That thought never occurred to him.

I heard a low rumble, and noticed the glow of the headlights as George approached with the truck. I waved the flashlight in that direction. He noticed the light and altered course.

He stopped the truck with its headlight illuminating the scene of the captives and their cargo.

"What do you plan to do with them?" Rex asked.

I pointed to the other side of the river, where a small crowd had gathered, and they got more vocal by the second. "Let's find out if anybody over there can understand me."

Pointing at the women, I glanced at Barney. "Stinky, watch them. If they move, gas them."

He groaned. "I'm never going to live this down."

Rex slapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll be sure to spread the word."

"Fuck off," Barney replied.

I walked to the edge of the water. The rowdy crowd on the other side calmed down in anticipation.

"Do any of you speak English?" I shouted across the water.

For a few moments, nobody moved. Just when I was about to turn away, a tall scrawny figure stepped forward.

"I can speak English," he shouted. "What do you want, white man?"

"Come to this side of the river so I can slap you around, you arrogant prick," George growled, but only loud enough for me to hear.

I ignored him. "Someone from your side stole a sheep last night from that farm over the hill," I said, and pointed toward the Russell farm. "I'm willing to trade the women for that sheep."

The skinny guy relayed my request to the others, and although I didn't understand a word of what was said, by the tone in their voices, I could hear they argued.

"What if we don't have the sheep?" the skinny guy asked.

"Then they go to jail and you'll never see them again," I replied.

Once again, the group on the other side started to bicker, and a sharp crack sounded across the water as someone's bare hand made contact with the side of someone else's face. Several voices rose in anger, and I could hear a man's voice that started to plead.

When the voices lowered, the skinny man spoke once more. "How do we know that we can trust you?"

"You don't."

After a moment of conferencing, they reached a decision. "I bring the sheep."

"Good choice," I said. "Just make sure it's the right sheep, or we have no deal."

I turned to George. "Go fetch Mr. Russell. He'll be able to identify his sheep."

Fifteen minutes later, George returned with Mr. Russell. He was dressed in his usual fashion, khaki shorts and shirt, with long socks, and brown leather shoes.

"Does he sleep in those clothes?" Rex asked under his breath so that only I could hear.

The big man stepped out of the truck. "Corporal, your driver say you need to see me. What's so urgent that it can't wait until the morning?"

I pointed at the four women who were now seated on the ground. Six of my squad formed a circle around them and their merchandize to ensure that nobody escaped. "I'm attempting to trade them for your prized lost sheep."

Surprise flooded his face. "You're kidding!"

I indicated the other side of the river where the skinny guy led a sheep down the slope. He had a rope tied around its neck, and dragged the animal along.

Mr. Russell growled and stepped forward. As he walked past me, I grabbed his arm. I had by no means small hands, but against his huge forearm, my hand looked like a child's.

"Eh, Mr. Russell, this guy that's bringing the animal, he was the only guy that can speak English. Please bear in mind that he's not the one that stole your sheep. Give me a chance to finish the transaction. If that skinny guy feels threatened in any way, he won't cross the river."

He stopped, but the fire in his eyes was still there. In his mind, he didn't care who stole the sheep. The one that had him presently would pay. One smack of those enormous hands would probably split the skinny guy in half.

Although angry, Craig Russell was not stupid. He realized the merit of my words and stepped back.

The skinny guy stopped on the edge of the water. "Here's your sheep."

I waved my hand at him. "Bring him over."

The guy hesitated. "How do I know you won't grab me the moment I set foot on that side?"

I shook my head, but the thought did cross my mind. "We won't. Look!" I turned to the rest of my guys. "Stay back. I'll meet him alone at the edge of the water. Frankie, cover me."

"Sure thing, Corporal," Frankie replied. At that distance, he could shoot a fly of a horse's back. Although skinny, they guy with the sheep offered a big target. I handed my rifle to Rex, and walked back to the edge of the water while the others fell back.

As I reached the river, I held my arms wide. "See, it's just me, and I'm unarmed."

Satisfied that there's no immediate threat on the other side waiting for him, the skinny guy dragged the sheep into the water. The animal was not fond of the river, and resisted, but the man was strong, and pulled the sheep along.

In the dim moonlight, I could see the whites of the man's eyes darting all over the place. Each step brought him closer to the bank, and I could feel the man's nervous energy. Twenty steps from the shore, he slipped on a rock and tumbled into the cold water.

The splash scared the animal, and it jumped to the side, yanking the rope from the man's grasp. The sheep set off toward the side, but the skinny guy was too quick. Once he regained his footing, he jumped forward and grabbed the rope.

The frightened animal bellowed as its escape was cut short. For the first time, I took a closer look at the sheep, and got a fright. I thought the man yanked too hard on the rope and broke the sheep's neck. I saw the body, but no head. Only when it turned sideways, did I realize that it had a white body with a black head.

The skinny man approached me, his eyes wide with fear. He was ready to turn and run at the first sign of trouble. I forced myself to stand still with my arms dangling by my side. I got lightheaded, and realized I held my breath. Through my nose, I took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

Three steps from riverbank, the man stopped and held out the leash. I stepped forward and reached out, but before my hand could touch the rope, the man dropped it, turned, and ran back the way he came.

Before the sheep could move, I jumped forward and grabbed the rope. The cold wetness from the water soaked into my boots. I tugged on the leash, but the animal refused to move.

"Eh, I need a little help here," I shouted over my shoulder.

Heavy footsteps sounded behind me, and then Mr. Russell's deep voice. "There's my lost girl."

It sounded like he was talking to a baby.

At the sound of his voice, the sheep ran forward, and I had to let go of the rope before it pulled me off my feet.

With two massive strides, Mr. Russell was at the edge of the water and scooped the sheep into his arms. With the ease he held the animal, it looked like he had a puppy.

"By that reaction, can I assume that's your missing sheep?" I asked.

The big man had tears in his eyes. "Corporal, thank you. This is amazing. I thought I would never see her again."

The way Mr. Russell fretted over the sheep made me uncomfortable, and I didn't know what to say. I glanced at George, who had a puzzled look on his face. The only one that seemed to understand the joy was Charlie.

I waved at George. "Take Mr. Russell back to the farm."

After the truck left, Rex turned to me. "Was it just me, or was that weird?"

Charlie laughed. "You city boys won't understand the bond a farmer can develop with his animals. They can be like children in his life."

Rex shook his head. "These farmer types are weird."

A loud shout from the other side of the river caught my attention. "Hey, white man, I bring back the sheep, now you send the women home?"

I glanced at the four women that huddled together. With all the excitement, I almost forgot about them.

"You can go," I said, but they just stared at me. I pointed to the other side of the river. "You can go home."

Instead of jumping up and running into the water, they moved closer to each other and looked even more frightened.

Swearing under my breath, I walked to the edge of the water. "You better tell them they can go before I change my mind."

Skinny yelled at them in Sotho, but when they didn't move, his yelling became more urgent.

"Guys, step back. I think your weapons are scaring them," I said.

When the soldiers moved back, the women came to their feet. They started to move to the water, but their eyes kept darting toward the parcels. A lot of hours went into making those hand-carved statues and other wares.

For what they sell that merchandize, they could probably feed their families for a month. In my mind, I saw a string of little black children going to bed hungry.

I sighed. "Wait!"

The woman stopped and stared at me with wide, scared eyes. I walked to the fourth parcel and picked the two packets of drugs, and stepped away.

"We got no use for this stuff," I said to Rex.

Turning back to the woman, I waved at the packages. "Take it, and go home."

At first they stood frozen, but what I urged them again, they returned to their packages, and tied the blankets before the lifted the parcels on their heads.

"You know they will be back with those," Rex said as we watched them walked across the river.

I shrugged. "Probably. As long as we don't catch them, because next time I won't be this generous."

We waited for George and then returned to the farmhouse. I locked the confiscated drugs in the strongbox on the truck before I crawled into my sleeping bag. My thoughts drifted to Charlotte, and I still had that nervousness in my stomach. Until I hear her voice, I would not be at ease.

At 06:45, the alarm in the watch on my left wrist beeped me awake. Everyone in the room was asleep, but I had to rise to radio in my report. I reported on the two bags of marijuana, but did not mention the crossers. My superiors would have roasted me if they found out I let the women go.

I started a pot of coffee after finishing my report, and one by one the rest of the squad woke. As usual, George was the last to rise. Once everyone had coffee and breakfast, we split the squad. Charlie, Frankie, Stinky, and me, took the horses, while Rex led the rest in a patrol with the truck.

This time around, I was more comfortable on the horse, and it didn't hurt my ass as much. For the next two days, nothing special happened. We did patrol, and visited the farmers, but they had nothing to report.

When we returned to the base for our rest day, the laid-back feeling of the last three days quickly disappeared. We grabbed our gear from the truck when the booming voice of Sergeant Major Wise thundered through the base.

We dumped our stuff in the tent and I hurried the guys over to the kitchen. That was the one safe place on the base were the sergeant major didn't bother the guys. As soon as my squad started peeling potatoes, I snuck into the admin building, but the chatty lieutenant occupied the phone.

An hour later, I tried again, but he was still on the phone. I had to wait till after lunch to make the call to Charlotte. I was so nervous, a nauseous feeling settled in my stomach.

Chapter 12

Time dragged that morning. Frik tried to engage me in conversation, but he soon found that my mind was elsewhere and left me alone. I sat in the corner near the window, and stared into the distance, looking, but not seeing.

When Corporal Dye entered the mess hall, everyone jumped to attention, and yanked me from my own world. In an automatic reaction, I rose to my feet.

The corporal stopped in front of me. "Corporal Dempsey, after lunch, your squad needtoreport in the small hall in the admin building. Sergeant Major Wise wants a word with everyone."

When I nodded, the corporal turned and exited.

"I wonder what that is all about," Rex said.

I shrugged. "I have no idea, but I need to make a phone call after lunch. Guys, you heard what Corporal Dye said. After lunch, report to the admin building. I'll meet you there."

Lunchtime, the food didn't register on my taste buds. I shoved it down my throat as quickly as possible, and then hurried to the payphone. With trembling hands, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a handful of coins.

I turned the dial and listened as the exchange clicked in my ear. Five seconds later, the phone started to ring on the other side. On the third ring, Charlotte answered the phone.

Her voice sounded tired. "Hello?"

That was not her usual greeting, and my heart took off like a runaway train thundering down a mountain.

"Hi, Charlotte," I said, and waited for the reply holding my breath.

A small gasp escaped her lips. "Chris, I've been waiting for your call."

"I tried to phone Saturday, but there was no answer. Is everything alright?"

There was a slight pause as Charlotte fought the tears, but I could hear it in her voice. "Chris, there was no one here to answer the phone, because we were all at the hospital."

The word was like a punch in the stomach. "Hospital? Why?"

Charlotte started to cry. "Chris, Friday we had our first spring rain, and it soaked the front porch. After it stopped raining, I went outside to fetch something from my dad's car, but the floor on the porch was slippery, and I fell."

I gripped the receiver tighter. "O my God, Charlotte. Are you okay?"

Her sobs was now uncontrollable. "My dad ... rushed me ... to the ... hospital. But it was too late."

A raw cry escaped her lips, and her voice filled with pain. "Chris, I ... I lost the baby."

My knees buckled and I grabbed the wall for support. I removed the receiver from my ear, and stared at the instrument in disbelief. Charlotte's cries could still be heard through the ear piece.

I stood there, my left hand against the wall, leaning my forehead on my arm; the phone in my right hand pressed against my ear, and listened to Charlotte's cries. My own tears were running down my cheeks, and dripping onto the floor.

When she calmed down, her voice sounded small and empty. "Chris, are you still there?"

"I'm here, honey," I said, but was lost for words.

I wanted to comfort her, hold her, and tell her that everything would be alright, but I was hundreds of kilometers away, and felt so helpless.

"Chris, I'm so sorry," she said through fresh sobs.

I swallowed hard. "Honey, no. Please don't blame yourself. It's not your fault. It was an accident."

But I knew, no matter what I said, it won't ease Charlotte's pain, and she would blame herself for the rest of her life.

Being at Charlotte's house often, I knew the place well. Her parents kept the phone on a small dresser in their bedroom. I could picture her sitting on the floor with her knees pulled against her chest, and her back resting against their bed.

"Chris, I need you. Can you come home?" she asked.

I could put in a request for emergency leave, but I knew what the answer would be before I asked. Denied. They would only approve leave if something happened to your immediate family, and they didn't consider my girlfriend immediate.

"After this call I will speak to the lieutenant," I said.

Charlotte also knew what the answer would be. "They won't let you. Damn it, Chris, I hate this."

We spoke for another few minutes before I had to hang up. A queue started to form for the phone. I made my way to the nearest bathroom, and washed the tears from my face.I walked back to my squad in a daze.

My brain tried to process the information, but it would be another few days before it really hit me. The moment I walked into the room where my squad waited, my friends saw that something was wrong.

"What happened?" Rex and Charlie asked at the same time.

I looked at them with a blank stare, unable to answer their question. Leaning with my back against the wall, I slid down into a sitting position on the floor. Rex, Charlie, George, and Frankie sat down in front of me.

"I take it you got hold of here and it was bad news?" George asked.

"Did she drop you again?" Rex inquired.

Frankie frowned. "Is it the baby?"

All three of the others jerked their heads to Frankie, but he didn't move his eyes off me. The word hit me like a sledgehammer in the pit of my stomach, and I had to take a deep breath.

Charlie's eyebrows knotted together. "What about the baby?"

I looked up into their expectant faces. "She lost it. Charlotte had a miscarriage."

"Ah man, no. What happened?" Rex asked.

I told them how she slipped and fell, and then was taken to the hospital, but all in vain. Our baby was gone.

We sat in silence, and I stared through the window. It was as if Mother Nature felt my pain. The sky was gray, and a soft drizzling rain sifted down on the dry earth. I was so lost in thought, I didn't noticed the frame of Sergeant Major Wise that appeared in the doorway, nor did I realize the rest of my squad jumped to their feet.

The first awareness I had, was when someone yanked on my arm. I looked up, and saw Rex hovering over me. He had me by the arm and tried to pull me to my feet. Unable to understand what the urgency was, I smiled at him in surprise.

He blocked my view, but from the doorway, the voice of Sergeant Major Wise thundered in the confines of the small room. "What the fuck? Are you too good to get to your feet, soldier?"

With the sound of his voice, I jumped to my feet. The Sergeant Major took two steps, and then he was in front of me.

I was a head taller than him, but he was right in my face. "And then you still smile about it?" At that point I realized I still had a stupid grin on my face.

His extended hand was millimeters from my face. "I have a good mind and hit a whole in your chest, and then hit you through that hole!"

He was shouting at the top of his voice, and drops of spit flew everywhere, but I didn't flinch. I just stared straight ahead and didn't look him in the eye.

At that point, Rex thought it wise to come to my defense. "He's still in shock, Sergeant Major."

The man didn't give Rex any time to explain. "I don't give a fuck what happened. I will not tolerate this disrespect, and if I wanted your opinion, I would've asked for it!"

Rex turned red in the face. Anger burned from within, but he had the sense to bite his lip and stared straight ahead.

Sergeant Major Wise turned his attention back to me. "Let's see you practice getting up. Sit down!"

The entire squad sat down. My senses were still numb. I noticed the man yelling at me, but it didn't register, and it didn't make sense. I was still trying to get to terms with the shocking news that Charlotte dumped on me.

Once I realized the rest of the squad sat down, I followed, but I was a second too late.

This sent the Sergeant Major into a fresh bout of frenzy. "I will fuck you up, soldier. Do you understand me? I will tear your arm from your body and hit you with the bloody remains. Stand up!"

This time I was more aware and jumped to my feet with the rest of the squad. But the Sergeant Major was still not satisfied. I showed disrespect and had to be punished. If he had his way, he would have done me bodily harm.

From the rage in his eyes, I was sure he considered it, but at least he had the good sense to realize the ramifications such an action could have.

At that point, Corporal Lewis stepped through the door, staring wide-eyed at the scene. When the Sergeant Major noticed his presence, a slight smile formed on his lips. At that moment, I knew that whatever he had planned for us could not be good.

He turned to the corporal, and pointed at Rex and me. "Corporal, these two soldiers disrespected me. Take them outside, and made sure that never happens again. I want you to fuck them up good."

Corporal Lewis nodded, and indicated that we should follow him.

The Sergeant Major's voice stopped Corporal Lewis. "And Corporal, you better make sure you do a good job, or I'll fuck you up."

I glanced at Rex. We were in for a tough afternoon.

When we stepped outside, we were met by a soft drizzle. Heavy gray clouds had settled in the sky above, promising to keep the ground wet for the rest of the day.

We followed Corporal Lewis down the path toward the rugby field. He didn't ask any questions. He followed orders and didn't want to know the why. I glanced at Rex, and he was angry. The unfairness of the situation didn't sit right with him.

If it wasn't for the fact that I was still emotionally numb, I would have been angry too. We started with a run around the goal posts. Every time Corporal Lewis blew on his whistle, we had to dive down in the grass, and then jump up, and continue our run.

Both Rex and me were running fit, and could do that all day without breaking a sweat. The Corporal soon realized that, and changed tactics. He called us to the far side of the rugby field, where he located a wooden log.

"Pick it up," he ordered.

I took the front end of the round pole. It was the size of my middle, and it was heavy, wet, and slippery. Lifting the log onto our shoulders was tricky, but we managed.

"When I blow the whistle, lift it above your head, and hold it there until I signal, and then you can lower it onto your shoulders," Corporal Lewis said.

He blew the whistle, and we lifted. It didn't take long before my arms started to feel the strain under the weight of the pole. Corporal Lewis kept a careful eye. He would wait until it looked like one of us would collapse before he blew his whistle.

Fifteen minutes of that, and my arms felt like jelly. The next time I tried to lift the log, it slipped from my grasp. When my end hit the ground, it jarred the stump from Rex's grip, and it fell into the mud.

"Did I say you could drop it? Pick it up!" Corporal Lewis yelled.

I bent down, but now the log was wet and muddy, making it impossible to get a firm grip. Lifting the front end, I slipped the toe of my boot underneath the pole. Then I moved my hands below the stump, interlocking my fingers, and tried to lift.

Rex followed my example, but because of the awkward position, we were only able to lift it as far as our hips. The moment we tried to adjust our grips, the log would slip and fall into the mud again.

Corporal Lewis was beside himself by our inability to lift the pole. He hurled a non-stop string of obscenities our way. By now, the shock of the loss of my baby started to wear off, and it was replaced by anger.

At every failed attempt to lift the log, my anger grew. It was then that Corporal Lewis got in my face. He stood in front of me; his face mere inches away, and shouted at the top of his voice.

I didn't register what he said, and my anger started to cloud my common sense. With a loud roar, I gripped the pole, lifted, and tossed it in his direction.

With a surprised yell he jumped out of the way. "What the hell, Dempsey? Are you out of your fucking mind?"

I glared at him, ready to take him on. All the pain I felt at that moment was directed at him. Corporal Lewis noticed the anger and raw hate on my face, and the intensity made him take a step back.

Rex noticed the change in me, and saw what was about to happen. He jumped forward between us. With his hands on my chest, he pushed me back.

"Chris, stop! He's not worth it. I know you're hurting, and angry. I am too, but this is not the way to go. It's just going to make it worse."

Slowly the rage in me died down, and I look at the concern on my friend's face. When I nodded, he stepped back.

Rex turned and faced the corporal. "Corporal Dempsey just found out that his girlfriend lost their baby. He was still in shock when the sergeant major walked in, that was why he was slow to respond. He didn't mean any disrespect."

Corporal Lewis' face turned pale. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Rex snorted. "I tried, but nobody gave us a chance."

Conflict raged on the corporal's face. He was torn between his orders, and being a decent human being. If he let us go without more torture, he risked the ire of the sergeant major.

Corporal Lewis sighed. "I think you two had enough. Get out of those wet clothes before you get sick."

As Rex and I walked back to our tent, I glanced at my friend. "Thank you. You saved my butt today."

Rex slapped me on the shoulder. "You saved mine plenty before. It is about time I return the favor."

Chapter 13

Although the rain outside was nothing more than a soft drizzle, when Rex and I walked into the tent, we were drenched and covered with mud. I was still angry about the unfairness of it all.

I would have liked nothing more than to get on the first bus or train to Johannesburg and make my way to Charlotte. She didn't say it out loud, but when I spoke to her on the phone, I could hear the hurt in her voice.

She needed me, and I couldn't be there for her. Up until that point, I found the forced military service an inconvenience, but it was something I could tolerate. That day, it became something else. Although not my fault, Charlotte resented me for not being there for her.

Like thousands before me, I was trapped in something that I had no control over. I was prepared to make the best of a bad situation, but at that moment when I walked into that tent, I felt like I was in jail. Maybe if I was allowed to grieve, things might have been different.

Eight pairs of eyes stared at us when we walked into the tent. Normally there would have been chatter and fooling around, but that afternoon everyone sat on the edge of their beds and stared.

"Are you two okay?" Frankie asked.

I shrugged. "We'll live."

Pulling the wet shirt from my body, I grabbed a towel and dried my hair and upper body.

"What did the sergeant major want to speak to us about?" I asked.

George snorted. "We never found out. After you and Rex left, the bastard just stormed out of there and we haven't seen him since. We waited fifteen minutes, and then left and came here."

The bitterness in George's voice was echoed on the faces of our other squad members. Sergeant Major Wise was a tough man. He ruled by fear, but through it all, everyone had a healthy respect for him, but that day he lost a lot of that respect.

"At least we'll be out of here in the morning," Barney said.

Charlie nodded. "I'll rather walk patrol all day than listen to that asshole scream around camp."

"What's the plan for tomorrow?" George asked.

I sighed. "I haven't thought about it yet."

George pushed himself off the bed. "Corporal, I think I speak for everyone here. I am sorry about Charlotte and the baby."

All the heads in the tent nodded in agreement. I swallowed at the lump that developed in my throat. "Thank you, guys. I appreciate the thought."

The following morning, it was still dark outside when we reported to the store to receive our rations. The store clerk didn't look happy to open that early. Only later did I find out that he had help from George and Fred to get out of bed.

At first he resisted, but a few growls from George quickly convinced him that it would be better for his health if he did as they asked. After I signed for our allotted rations, George and Fred grabbed the boxes and loaded them on the truck.

We were about to leave, when Lieutenant Harris rushed out to stop us. "Corporal Dempsey, can I have a word before you leave?"

I glanced at George.

"Just say the word and I'll run him over with the truck," George offered.

I stepped out of the Samil, and he led me away where the rest of the squad could not hear our conversation.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

I frowned. "I'm fine, Lieutenant."

He sighed. "Corporal Lewis told me what happened. I spoke to the Colonel about emergency leave, but it is against policy, and it was denied."

It confirmed what I already knew. "I am aware of that, which is why I didn't request leave, Lieutenant."

I was not able to hide the pain in my voice, and even if I could, my eyes would've given me away.

The Lieutenant stared at me for a moment. "The Colonel had a word with Sergeant Major Wise about what happened."

My head jerked. "What?"

The Lieutenant frowned at the bewilderment on my face. A man like the sergeant major didn't take kindly to being hauled over the coals. He would find his retribution in one way or another.

The officer sighed. "Corporal, won't you consider staying in base today? I am sure the Chaplain would like to have a word with you."

I shook my head and looked back at the truck. Nine guys stared at me with anxious faces. It was a good thing they couldn't hear our conversation. In that vehicle, I had more support than what the Chaplain could offer.

"Eh, thanks, Lieutenant, but we still have a job to do," I said.

He frowned, but nodded. "Okay, but then you will see him when you return to base?"

I nodded, already working on a plan to delay that return for as long as possible.

We headed to the farmhouse, stashed our gear, and then visited the local farmers. It didn't take long for the illegal border crossers to work out that we were not around on every third day. The day we had to return to base.

While we were back at the base, Mrs. Harris lost a cow, and Mr. Banner claimed he lost four sheep. Although, with Mr. Banner, we couldn't be sure that he didn't leave a gate open on purpose, and the sheep wandered off to a neighboring farm.

George dropped me off with half the squad, while Rex took the other half, doing a patrol from the opposite side, and we would meet halfway. We noticed several places where people crossed the river, and I made a note of each spot for future possible night patrols.

When Rex and I met up again, we compared notes and discussed possible ambush sites. Focusing on the task at hand, kept my mind occupied. I had less time to think about Charlotte, or dwell on what happened back at the base.

My squad members also knew to avoid the subject, and we talked about everything but home. The patterns of the crossers gave me an idea to put in a request to stay out in the field for a night operation.

But that also meant that I would miss my call to Charlotte. I also ran out of twenty cent coins needed to use the payphone. Later in the afternoon, Harry Johnson arrived on the farm to check up on his milk cows.

I pulled him to the side. "Harry, is there a bank in Hobhouse?"

Hobhouse, a small farming town named after the famous welfare campaigner, Emily Hobhouse, was the closest town to our TB, but far enough from the base in Ladybrand. It would be unlikely for us to run into any military personnel.

"Yes, there's a bank, a general store, a bottle store, a post office, a butchery, and even a barber shop," Harry said with a smile.

"What? No hotel?" I asked with feigned shock.

Harry laughed. "Yes, of course there's a hotel. Where are the farmers supposed to quench their thirst?"

I was more interested in the bank than the hotel. While George drove me to town, I left Rex in charge with instructions that if someone arrived at the farmhouse looking for me, to say I went scouting for a mission.

George parked the truck in front of the bank. Several people stopped and stared at the military vehicle. Although Ladybrand was only fifty kilometers away, soldiers rarely made it to the small town.

I realized we had to get in and out quickly, as the Samil drew attention. Leaving my rifle in the truck, I hopped out and walked to the entrance. As I got to the door, a woman and her small daughter exited. The little one gave me a shy smile and a wave. I returned the wave, which excited the child, and she smiled happily at her mother. Apart from an elderly lady that chatted to the branch manager in his office, I was the only other customer.

The brunette behind the counter gave me a warm smile. "Good afternoon. How can I help you?"

I returned the smile. "I need change."

Fishing two crumpled twenty rand bills from my pocket, I laid them on the counter. "I need twenty cent coins please."

The friendly teller nodded, counted out the coins, and put them in a little plastic bank bag. "Anything else?"

I shook my head, thanked her for the coins, and made a hasty retreat out of the bank. The friendly girl in her late twenties with the penetrating brown eyes, made me feel uncomfortable.

When I jumped back into the truck, George stared at the opposite side of the street, and the small bottle store. "I think I need to go make a withdrawal of my own."

I shook my head. "You're not going in there while you're in uniform."

George groaned. "A few beers will do you the world of good."

"I don't dispute that, but if you get caught in there while in uniform, they'll court-martial us both."

George grinned. "I can come back in civilian clothes?"

Since I obtained a rank, it made me look at everything from a different perspective. Previously, I would have agreed with George. Hell, I would even have encouraged him to go buy beers in his underwear.

Responsibility gave me a different outlook on life. "I agree. A few beers would be very welcome. If Harry is still at the farmhouse when we get back, I'll ask him if he would do the buying for us."

George laughed. "Now you're talking."

We took off back to the farmhouse, and I had to hang onto my seat as George flew down the dirt road. As luck would have it, Harry was still on the farm. He was about to get into his vehicle when we arrived in a cloud of dust.

"Are you in a hurry to get somewhere?" Harry asked when I jumped out of the truck.

I grinned. "Yes. I tried to catch you before your return to town."

A worried look crossed Harry's face. "What happened?"

I held up my hands. "Nothing's wrong. I need to ask you a favor."

Harry nodded. "Okay, ask away."

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Well, eh, we hoped you could buy us a few beers in town. If they catch us in the bottle store in uniform, we'll be in deep shit."

Harry laughed. "I can imagine. I have done it before for the guys staying here. Just write down your order, give me the money, and I'll buy it when I get to town."

I called the section together, and explained our plan. Everyone was game. A few minutes later, I handed Harry the list, and a handful of money to pay for everything.

He whistled when he read the order. "Are you planning to get the whole base drunk?"

I blushed. "Eh, no, just us."

Harry's face was serious when he stared at me. "Just don't break my house down."

I shook my head. "No, I'll make sure there's no damage. If we break anything, we'll fix it."

He was about to say something else, but he noticed the pain in the back of my eyes. He opened his mouth to ask, but then thought better of it, and opened the door of his vehicle. "I'll pick it up today, but will only be able to drop the contraband off here tomorrow afternoon."

With a shake of his head, Harry drove away.

"Corporal, do you have a plan yet to keep us out of the base?" Frankie asked.

I shrugged. "I'm working on it. I can use the illegal crossers as an excuse, but can only put in the request tomorrow morning when I do my sitrep."

Rex and I were both sore from our encounter the previous day. Being out in the field with me in charge, meant I made the decisions. I was still a little ticked off by the events the previous day, so decided we should have the rest of the afternoon off.

One guy was posted by the water tower to act as look-out. With the dirt road coming from Ladybrand snaking down the hill, we could see someone approaching from a long way out, and gave ourselves five minutes to prepare for any imminent arrival.

With Charlie and Frankie on cooking duty, and Barney as lookout, the remaining guys fashioned a ball out of newspaper rolled together, and played a friendly game of touch rugby. To make the sides even, I opted to sit out.

Rather than watching the antics of my squad members, I decided to go for a walk. Since Charlotte broke the news, I didn't have much time to myself and my own thoughts.

When she told me she was pregnant, the news took me by surprise, but I was slowly getting used to the idea that I would be somebody's father.

Telling my parents was a scary prospect, and somehow I managed to put it off every time I was home. While I walked through the field with the cows witnessing my sorrow, I regretted not telling my folks.

I knew in my heart, that if I made the effort, they would have known. After my last conversation with Charlotte, I also realized that our relationship was fragile and could come crashing around me at any time.

Two years was a long time and could put a strain on any relationship. Not many relationships survived the two year compulsory military service, but those that did, got married, and had a long and happy life together. But they were the exception rather than the rule.

Each and every soldier that was in a relationship at the start of their training, believed they would make it. The thought gave us hope, something to look forward to and carry us through the difficult times.

Would my relationship with Charlotte last? If I had to be honest with myself, I had my doubts, but at that moment it was something I clung to, my grasp on the outside world. That was the one thing that anchored my existence, the goal at the end of my military road.

On top of the hill overlooking the farm, I found an abandoned anthill. Using it as a seat, I watched the play and laughter of my squad. Their game of touch rugby turned into a game of chasing the one who had the ball.

With silent tears running down my cheeks, I mourned the baby that I would never know.

Chapter 14

It was still dark in the room, when the alarm in my wristwatch beeped. My left arm was folded under my head, so I had the noise right in my ear, but it was muffled for the rest of the squad.

Using the display light in my watch to illuminate the way, I stepped over sleeping bodies and made my way to the kitchen. Nick was on guard and had the kettle boiling on the stove.

I peeked out through the back door. He was sitting on the porch wall with his rifle in his lap, and a mug of coffee in his hand.

"Morning. Everything alright?" I asked.

Nick yawned. "Morning, Corporal. Apart from the neighbors complaining about George's snoring, nothing happened."

The new guys in the squad had to get used to George and his imitation of a chainsaw. We that had been with George since basics were used to it.

After I poured myself a mug of steamy coffee, I sat at the table to write my report. Although we gave a radio report, we had to hand in the written account when we returned to base.

Just as I finished my report, I heard a fuss coming from the sleeping quarters.

Fred was upset about George's snoring. "How's anybody supposed to sleep with that racket? Maybe you should try to sleep with the cows at night."

"The way you complain, I think I'm already sleeping with the cows," George growled.

"What worries me is what will happen when we get deployed to the Angolan border. On the first night, you'll signal FAPLA in the entire Angola region to our position," Mike added.

Nobody but George's closest friends knew this, but it was a big concern for him too. Charlie noticed that George liked to sleep on his back, and only snored when he slept that way. When he lay on his side, he didn't snore.

Using an old farm remedy, he took one of George's T-shirts and attached two wooden thread spools to the back of the T-shirt.

"This will be very uncomfortable," George moaned.

Charlie nodded his head in sympathy. "That is the point. Every time you roll on your back, these will act as a reminder to lie on your side. You can test it tonight."

I left them to debate the merit of Charlie's invention, and made my way to the water tower, and radioed in my report.

"Control, I need to speak to my platoon sergeant urgently. Can you call him? Over," I said at the end of my report.

The controller's voice crackled over the radio. "Hang on. We'll see if we can find him, over."

Five minutes later Corporal Lewis' voice sounded over the radio. "One two alpha, this is one two, you wanted to speak to me, over."

I explained to Corporal Lewis what the farmers told me, that there are no crossings while we patrol the border, but on our rest day, they worked out that we'll be away, and took advantage of our absence.

"We want to surprise them tomorrow. Maybe we can catch a few of these crossers that cause the farmers so many headaches, over," I added.

The corporal was silent for a moment, thinking the request through. "I'll have to get permission from person Wise. Keep your radio close. I'll let you know in the course of the day. If he approves, I'll send out extra rations, over."

I could only hope the sergeant major didn't hold a grudge, or he would never approve my request.

After breakfast, we piled into the truck for a morning patrol. We first drove the route along the river, but from the truck it was difficult to make close observations, so once we turned, I ordered the squad to walk.

George followed closely behind with the truck. He wanted to go ahead and wait for us, but, much to the delight of the rest of the squad, I said that if we had to walk, he can follow us at walking pace.

We were about halfway when a military Jeep came the opposite way. Corporal Dye was at the wheel, and Corporal Lewis in the passenger seat.

"I tried to raise you on the radio, but you didn't answer," Corporal Lewis said with an accusing stare.

I indicated the valley where the river flowed. "Reception is not the best down here."

Corporal Lewis pointed to three boxes on the back of the Jeep. "Your request was approved, but the Sergeant Major expects a full report."

I nodded, and waved to Frankie, Fred, and Mike. They grabbed the boxes containing the field rations, and loaded them in the back of the Samil.

When the Corporal's drove off, the rest of the squad had a hard time containing their excitement. Not only did we manage to stay out of the base, we planned our own little party for that evening.

When we returned to the farmhouse, Harry leaned against his truck, waiting for us. George stopped the Samil under the tree next to the water pump.

I greeted the farmer with a friendly smile. "Hi, Harry."

Harry returned the smile, and waved at the back of his truck. "Here are your provisions. I also brought a little something extra for your shindig tonight."

He opened the lid of a blue cooler box. "My wife cleaned out the fridge, and we had all this extra meat."

I stretched my neck and peeked into the box. It contained steaks and pork chops. "Thank you, Harry. This is much appreciated."

The rest of the squad was on hand to offload the truck, and carried the liquor and meat to the kitchen.

Harry pulled me to the side. He gave me a look that I've seen often from my father. "Now don't make me regret this."

I gave him a sober look, and nodded. "Don't worry. I won't let it get out of hand."

Under normal circumstances, Harry wouldn't be out at the farm for three or four days, but I knew that we would see him again the following morning. He had a house full of eighteen and nineteen year-old young men with enough liquor to get drunk, and had good reason to be worried.

"You are welcome to join us," I offered.

Harry laughed, but held his hands up defensively. "As much as that sounds like fun, my wife would kill me."

As I watched him drive off, I knew he would be disappointed if he came back in the morning and we ruined his house. For some reason, I didn't want to disappoint him.

Before we did anything, I called the squad together. "Guys, we're going to have some fun tonight, but please don't go overboard. If any of you get out of hand, I'll tie you up and lock you in the cow shed. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Corporal!" they answered in one voice.

I smiled. "Okay, now let's get preparing. Charlie, you and Frankie can fix us a big pot of pap. There are still tomatoes and onions in the pantry, use that to make a sauce. Fred and Mike, I saw a braai and grill behind the cow shed. Bring it over here. The rest of you, gather fire wood."

While they set about their tasks, I grabbed my note pad and wrote my report for the following morning. I wrote about the patrol we did that morning, the visits to the local farmers, and about a roadblock in the afternoon that never happened.

When I was done, I read through my report and smiled.

"What are you smiling at?" Charlie asked.

I waved my notebook in the air. "This is why I want to be a writer one day, I'm good at making shit up that sounds believable."

Frankie laughed. "Journalists can't just make stuff up. They have to report on the facts."

I tapped my notebook. "Maybe I'll do better with fiction."

Fred and Mike carried the heavy home-made braai and placed it in front of the porch. Harry took an old oil drum, cut it in half length-wise, and mounted it on a steel frame. He then fitted it with a grill, and viola, a braai that can grill a lot of meat at once.

The rest of the squad stacked the firewood in the corner, and they found enough to keep the fire going for several days. George had the task of starting the fire, and within minutes, the flames reached high into the sky.

I glanced at my watch. It was five minutes past five. "Okay, guys, we are now officially off duty."

Stepping into the pantry, I opened the box that contained my twelve beers, but only took out two. I put one in the fridge to get cold for later, and opened the other.

Rex looked at me with a puzzled expression. "You're not in camp now. You can have more than two beers."

"Just because I bought a dozen beers, doesn't mean I have to drink everything in one night. I can save some for tomorrow. Besides, I still have to keep on eye you," I answered.

Rex and George looked at each other and sighed. They each grabbed six beers. With a heavy heart, they put them down and followed my example.

When we each had a beer in hand, I lifted mine in the air. "To better times."

"To better times," my squad echoed in unison.

Soon, the smell of grilling meat filled the air, and with the sound of chatter and laughter, any one observing would have thought it was just an ordinary South African get together.

We talked about what the rest of our time might hold, and our future plans. For a few hours that evening, the pain in my heart was dulled by the company of my friends.

After we ate, we all lent a hand to clean up the dishes and tidy up the kitchen. Once done, we congregated around the fire. George removed the grill, and loaded more wood.

The evening air was cool, but the warmth provided by the fire was enough that we could sit outside. Overhead, the stars shone brightly in the vast expanse of space. With no city lights near, the Milky Way smiled down on us.

The dancing flames had a hypnotic effect, and I stared into them, nursing my second beer. The guys shared stories from basics, with Frankie doing most of the talking. We sure had a lot of adventures during that time, and Frankie amused the group with his recount of George's antics during the first phase of our training.

Of course, Frankie had a lot of mishaps of his own, and when George and Rex told Frankie's stories, they had the rest of the squad rolling with laughter. I didn't say much, but I observed my squad members. It was days like those which built the foundation of a strong friendship.

We cleaned up before we went to bed. George and Charlie drew the first guard shift, and they added more wood on the fire.

When I got comfortable in my sleeping bag, my mind drifted to Charlotte. I missed her, and my being ached to be with her, but it was not possible. My squad mates helped me to handle that hole in my life. I sighed and drifted off to sleep.

The following morning, I woke to a squabbling between George and Charlie.

"Every time I turned the spools dug into my back, waking me. How am I supposed to get any sleep?" George moaned.

"Well, that's the point. It is meant to teach you not to sleep on your back, thus preventing you from snoring," Charlie answered.

From across the room, Fred stuck his head from his sleeping bag. "It is definitely working. I didn't hear you snore once."

George glared at Charlie. "That's because I didn't sleep."

Mike answered from his sleeping bag. "Now you know how we feel every night."

Still not happy, George pointed a finger at Charlie. "If I drive the truck into a ditch today because I fell asleep behind the wheel, they must take it up with you, not me."

Despite what George might say, I knew how serious he took his responsibility, and he would never endanger the lives of his friends. It was also this fear that he might put his friends at risk once we deployed, that he was willing to try Charlie's anti-snoring device.

With the friendly argument going on, I knew there was no more sleep, and pulled on my boots. I was tying the laces, when Frankie, who was on guard duty, came running into the room.

"Corporal, Sergeant Major Wise is on his way here!" he shouted.

Everyone stopped what they were doing.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

He nodded his head vigorously. "Yes, he just came over the hill. I just happened to look at the sunrise, and spotted his Jeep."

I jumped to my feet. "Shit. Guys, it's time to move. Fred and Mike, make sure our sleep area is neat. Frankie and Charlie, tidy up the kitchen. Barney, check the bathroom. George, check that all the remaining beers are out of view. The rest, make sure the outside is clean, and that all evidence from last night is gone."

A frenzy of activity ensued. We had to prepare many inspections in a hurry, and got quite good at it. By the time the Jeep stopped in the yard, I walked out of the house with the radio and the notebook in my hand.

The rest of the squad stood outside with a cup of coffee, acting like they waited for me to finish my report before we headed out on patrol.

When the Sergeant Major stepped out of the Jeep, we all jumped to attention.

"As you were," he said with a wave of his hand.

He stared at me through thick, bushy eyebrows. "Where are you going, Corporal?"

I pointed to the water tower. "I have to do my report from up there. It is the only way I can get a signal."

He glanced curiously at the tower, and then shook his head. "Okay, go ahead. I need to have a word with you when you're done."

The rest of the squad was nervous around him, and didn't know what to make of his presence. The only one that didn't seem to have a problem was Frankie.

He walked up the man. "Would the Sergeant Major care for a cup of coffee?"

Surprised by Frankie's approach, he almost looked amused, but nodded. "That will be great, Thompson."

I radioed in my report, and it was with a heavy heart I climbed from the tower, wondering if I was in more trouble. It must have been serious for the sergeant major to drive out that early.

Chapter 15

With the radio in my left hand, I walked returned to the house where the rest of my squad waited with Sergeant Major Wise.

"Can I put the radio away?" I asked the sergeant major.

He nodded. "Yes." Then he handed Frankie his empty coffee mug. "Let me come with you. I am curious as to your TB here."

I led him into the kitchen and glanced around anxiously, but the place was neat and tidy.

The sergeant Major walked to the middle of the room. "This is cozy."

My heart skipped a beat when he stepped toward the pantry. "What's back here?"

I hoped my answer sounded as casual as I intended. "The pantry."

There was no door to the pantry, but an old curtain hung in the doorway, separating it from the kitchen. The sergeant major brushed the curtain aside, and peeked in. He only looked for a moment, and then pulled his head back.

"Let's see the rest of the place," he said, and walked down the hallway.

The moment he moved from sight around the corner, I yanked back the curtain and looked into the pantry. Our stack of beers stood behind the big sack of maize, but was covered with a burlap bag, raising no suspicion. I gave a sigh of relief and followed Sergeant Major Wise.

He stepped into our sleeping area and looked at the sleeping bags that lined the floor, all in a neat formation. I walked over to Frankie's bed, and placed the radio in the back pocket of his webbing. When we were out in the field, Frankie carried the radio.

I waited for the sergeant major to say something, but he just nodded, and then stared at me.

"How are you doing, Corporal?" he asked after a brief uncomfortable silence.

The question took me by surprise. "Eh, I'm fine thanks, Sergeant Major."

"I'm sorry about what happened in the base. I didn't know you just got off the phone with your girlfriend, but I should've known that you wouldn't show disrespect on purpose."

Not knowing how to respond to that bombshell, I simply nodded. Sergeant Major Wise showed a human side that nobody thought he had. He wasn't ordered to apologize; he did it out of his own free will.

He turned for the door. "Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you're alright. If it was up to me, I would've sent you home for a few days, but the brass has other ideas."

I stared at the sergeant major's broad back. Every single bad thing I thought of him a few days ago was forgotten. With a simple apology, he won back my respect tenfold.

When the sergeant major drove off in the Jeep, George walked up to me. "What did he want?"

I was still in shock. "He apologized for the base incident."

George's eyes almost popped out of their sockets in surprise. "You're kidding!"

I laughed. "Nope. I had to pinch myself to make sure I was awake."

Then a thought struck me. "Hey, I almost got a heart attack when he peeked into the pantry. I was sure our goose was cooked."

George grinned. "The burlap bag was all I could find on short notice."

I waved a finger at him. "Luckily for you, it worked. Anyway, let's get going before Sergeant Major Wise changes his mind and decides to take a second look."

We were just about to mount the truck, when Harry arrived on the farm. I glanced at Rex and gave him a knowing smile. We knew he would be back that morning to make sure his house was still in one piece.

"Morning, Harry," I greeted. "What brings you out here?"

"Believe it or not, but this is my farm," he replied.

We were not used to see him in a grumpy mood. By the look of his blood-shot eyes, I guessed he hadn't sleep much the previous night, probably lying awake worrying about his house. I couldn't blame him. If there were ten young soldiers living in my house with a stack of beers, I would've been worried too.

While he inspected his house, I waited outside. The rest of the squad got in the back of the Samil, ready to head out on patrol.

Harry walked out shaking his head. "I can't believe the place is still standing."

I clicked my tongue and smiled. "I told you I would look after your place."

He stood with his hand on his hips. "Yes, you did, but I must admit, I had my doubts."

"Harry, you're doing us a huge favor by letting us stay here. We still have at least another four weeks before we return to Bloemfontein, and would hate sleeping out in the field for that time."

Satisfied that all was in order, he returned to town, and I jumped into the passenger seat of the truck. We set off on patrol, driving along the two-track dirt road that ran parallel to the river. It was a bumpy ride, but the excellent suspension of the Samil cushioned it some.

As far as we went, people on the Lesotho side would shout insults at us, waving their fists in the air. That was until we reached the section of the Russell farm where we traded the sheep for the four women and their parcels.

A large group of women and children was on the other side of the river doing their laundry. When they noticed the military vehicle, they waved and cheered like they were seeing old friends.

"At least we had a positive effect on a small portion of the Lesotho population," George groaned.

I leaned my elbow on the open window of the truck. "That will only last until the next time we catch them, and then we'll be the villains again."

We found no trace of any crossings in our patrol area.

"These fuckers must be waiting for tomorrow. They're probably thinking we're heading back to base. Boy, are they in for a surprise," Rex said when we stopped for a nature break.

"What's the plan for tomorrow, Corporal?" Frankie asked.

I shook my head. "To be honest, I didn't give it much thought. The plan was to get us out of the base. I only used the crossers as an excuse, but we can't hang around the farmhouse all day. The sergeant major or one of the corporals is bound to check up on us."

Charlie removed his bush hat and ran a hand through his short hair. "I'll rather be walking patrol than doing kitchen duty and being yelled at in the base."

I scanned the ridges away from the river. The last five hundred meters to the river was a steep incline, but we could make it to the top unseen. To test my theory, I instructed George to find us a way to the top of the ridge.

He had to drive a long way around, but eventually found a way. Parked at the top, we looked down at the river in the valley below. With the truck, we will be spotted from the other side of the river, but on foot, we could make it there without being seen.

I turned to George. "If you drop us in the dip on the main road, we can make it here on foot without being spotted from the other side of the border."

Rex groaned. "That's a hell of a walk."

I slapped him on the shoulder. "You have walked further than that. This is just a nice morning stroll."

Rex, as my second in command, was supposed to support me.

He sighed. "Yes, I know, it will be fun."

His fake enthusiasm didn't fool anybody.

I found a clear piece of sand and used a stick to make a rough drawing of our surroundings. "Tomorrow morning, after I radio in my report, we will pretend to drive to Ladybrand as normal. In the dip, we will be out of view if anybody is watching with binoculars. George will stop only for a moment, but we'll jump off, and hide in the bushes. Once he drives off, we'll wait until the dust settles, and then we will make our way here."

"Do I just go on driving all the way to Ladybrand?" George asked.

I extended the road on my sand drawing. "Once you go over this ridge, the road disappears from view. You can stop and wait there. It is only about five kilometers away. We should still be able to communicate via radio."

Charlie poked George in the side. "And don't fall asleep again."

A look of annoyance crossed George's face. "Fuck off. That happened once, but nobody will let me forget it."

Charlie backed up a few steps and held up his hands. "Easy, I was only kidding."

George jumped forward. "I'll show you kidding."

With George chasing Charlie around the truck, I wiped the ground, leaving no evidence of our plan. "I think that's enough work for one day, let's head back to the farmhouse. We still have to exercise the horses."

George had given up on Charlie, who was too quick for him. For the next few days, Charlie would be wary of George, because he knew there was payback heading his way. It didn't worry me, because I knew George would never hurt his friend.

After lunch, Charlie and three of the others took the horses out for their exercise. I left Rex in charge at the farmhouse, while George and I headed into Hobhouse. By the post office I noticed a few payphones, and it was time to call Charlotte.

With the receiver in my hand, I paused a moment before I dialed Charlotte's number. Although I loved her, I knew that it wouldn't be an easy conversation. I glanced at the next payphone where George was speaking to his parents.

I turned the dial, and moments later, the phone starting ringing on her end.

Charlotte answered the phone. "Brown, residence." Her voice sounded tired.

I forced a smile. "Hi, honey."

"Chris? I didn't expect your call until tomorrow," Charlotte said, but her voice contained no excitement. The pain was still there.

"They make it miserable to be in the base, so I made sure my squad won't have to go in tomorrow, but I didn't want to miss calling you. I snuck into Hobhouse to phone you from a payphone at the post office."

"Oh," she said as a matter of fact.

_You could be more appreciative of my effort_ , I thought, but didn't say anything out loud.

"How are you?" I asked, but knew the answer already.

Her voice was soft, and I had to listen hard to hear it. "As well as can be expected."

For once, I didn't know what to say to her, but she had something on her mind.

"Chris, I need your love and support, but you are not here." Her voice sounded bitter.

I sighed. "Hon, you know I love you, and you have my support, even if I'm not physically present."

"But it is not the same, Chris. You're not here. I need your arms around me," she said close to tears.

I closed my eyes. For a second I thought about deserting to run to her, but that would just make matters worse. I was dealt a bad hand and had to play it, whether I liked it or not.

We spent another five minutes talking about how her family was doing before I hung up. I stared that the phone like it was a snake about to bite me.

George noticed I was done. "Sorry, Mom, but I have to run. I love you and will see you soon."

He hung up the phone and frowned. "That was quick. Is everything alright?"

I glanced around, and noticed several people around that stopped and stared at us. Women and children just loved men in uniform.

"Let's get out of here. I'll tell you about it on the trip back to the farmhouse," I said.

I waited until we hit the dirt road. "She blames me for not being there."

George looked shocked. "She said that to you?"

I grabbed the door for support when George rounded a corner. "No, not in so many words, but I could hear it in her voice."

"This really sucks," George said.

My friend was not the most diplomatic guy, but he was right, it did suck. It wouldn't take much for Charlotte to run back to her old boyfriend. I had to rescue her from him once, but this time I was even further away.

He didn't have to do military service because of some bogus medical condition, but I was convinced the army saw he was useless. The main thing was that he was there and I wasn't. If I was around, Charlotte wouldn't even look at him twice, but the old saying rang true, out of sight, out of mind.

That evening, while George and Frankie grilled the leftover meat, I nursed a beer, sulking in the corner. George informed the others about what happened, and they left me alone.

Despite me feeling like going on a binge, I stuck to my two-beer quota. If nothing else, I had to keep a clear head. After we had our food, I grabbed my notebook and sat at the kitchen table to write my report.

Laughter drifted through the open door. The pen hovered above the notepad as my thoughts moved in a different direction. A year ago I was in school without a care in the world.

In Charlotte, I found someone to love, and for once, it appeared as if that someone actually understood me, which was a rare thing in my life. Not even my parents got the complexity that made me who I am. Hell, for the most part, I didn't even understand it myself.

As much as I loved Charlotte, I could feel her slipping away, and there wasn't a thing I could do about it. Unless I found a way to be with her in person, our relationship was doomed.

Frankie stopped in the doorway on the way to the toilet. "Is everything okay, Corporal?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm just working on my report for tomorrow morning. You know I have to make it interesting, otherwise that might call us back to the base."

As he disappears around the corner, I took a deep breath. No matter what happened between Charlotte and me, my life in the military would go on.

Chapter 16

When I opened my eyes, Charlotte was the first thing on my mind, but I had to shove her to the back. Concentrating on her would've driven me nuts, so I rather focused on the task at hand.

I was the section leader of a mechanized infantry unit in the South African military, and was responsible for ten lives, my nine squad members, and my own. We all knew that our training would lead to operational deployment on the Angolan border.

I could not let my own personal feelings compromise the safety of the people under my command. With a last sigh, I gave Charlotte a mental hug, and gently moved her to the back of my thoughts while I concentrated on the day's events.

After breakfast, I radioed in my report to Control before we grabbed our gear and climbed into the Samil.

"Do you think this will work?" George asked.

I raised my shoulders. "I have no idea. If nothing else, it gives us something to do."

George nodded in agreement. "It sure beats peeling potatoes, or being yelled at by the sergeant major."

As we neared the dip, I grabbed my rifle. "If you haven't heard anything from us in two hours, move to a different spot, because you'll probably be out of radio range."

In the middle of the dip, George stopped the truck, and we jumped out. We immediately went for the cover of the bushes. The truck pulled away, and we waited until George disappeared over the ridge before we started the journey to our lookout point.

We kept to cover as much as we could, and made sure we weren't seen from the Lesotho side. In places, we had to leopard crawl to avoid being detected. An hour and a half later, we moved into position on top of the ridge. Along the way, we camouflaged, and blended in with our surroundings.

"I never thought we would use leopard crawling in the field," Rex complained, rubbing his elbows.

"That was fun," Charlie said. "Corporal, we should do this stuff more often."

Only Frankie agreed with him. The rest of the squad glared in his direction.

"Luckily for you, George isn't here. He'd have you tested for sun stroke with all that nonsense talk," Rex said.

"Okay, let's settle down. We don't want to let the whole of Lesotho know we're hiding out here," I said.

While the guys moved into position, I scanned the river bank. Every morning you could see fresh tracks in the mud if someone crossed the river during the night. Right across from our position, two sets of footprints were visible, but it only led in one direction.

I pointed to the spot. "Guys, keep your eyes open. Two people crossed the river there during the night. I don't see any tracks leading back, so they might still be on this side."

Frankie was positioned next to me, and I motioned him to hand me the receiver of the radio.

I cupped my hand over the receiver to muffle the noise. "Zulu, this is One Two Alpha. Do you copy? Over."

George responded almost immediately. "I hear you loud and clear, One Two Alpha. Over."

"At least he's still awake," Rex said with a big grin.

I shook my head, ignoring his comment. "Zulu, we're in position, over."

"Copy that, One Two Alpha. What's my orders? Over." George asked.

I pressed the receiver again. "Zulu, hold your position until you hear from me, over and out."

"Copy that, over and out."

For two hours we kept to our position with no movement near the river.

Then Frankie called my attention. "Pst, Corporal. There's movement coming down the path that leads to the river."

I lifted my head and looked to our left. Two guys strolled down the road without a care in the world. Each had a long stick in one hand. It was then that I noticed they were herding four sheep.

From their direction, I guessed they came from the Banner farm. Mr. Banner was sure to complain to the base about his stolen sheep, and the incompetency of the soldiers to prevent the theft.

"Rex, you, Mike and Fred, move in behind them. We'll cut them off from the river. If they turn to run, grab them," I ordered.

The thieves moved into a small valley, and from our sight. If we couldn't see them, they couldn't see us.

"Okay, guys, let's go," I said, and let the squad down the side of the hill.

It was a steep hill, but we managed. We made it down to the river without being seen. I led the squad along the water's edge, until I found the place they crossed earlier. We heard the sheep before we saw the men.

The sheep were separated from their herd, and didn't appreciated being herded by strangers. With every step the animals took, they bleated in protest, and as they approached the river, they wanted to turn back to where they came from.

The two thieves had their hands full trying to keep the sheep heading in the right direction. With everything that went on, they never noticed the soldiers that waited for them, or the ones that snuck up behind them.

As one man, we jumped up, surrounded them, and pointed our weapons at the two thieves.

"If you move, you're dead," I said.

A shock expression covered their faces, and their eyes were filled with fear.

"Get down on the ground," I ordered, but they stared at me with wide eyes.

It took me a second to realize they didn't understand a word I said.

"Get down," I said again, but this time I indicated with my hand what I wanted them to do.

They understood the signal and dropped to their knees. The sheep made a U-turn, and started to head back to their farm.

I pointed at the frightened animals. "Rex, get those sheep."

While Rex, Mike, and Fred attended to the sheep, I turned my attention to the two figures on the ground. The two men were on their knees with their hands on their heads. Something told me that was not an unfamiliar position for them.

"Do you speak English?" I asked.

The thieves looked at each other with a confused look. It was clear they didn't understand.

I motioned to Frankie to bring the radio. "Zulu, this is One Two Alpha, over."

I called twice more, but there was no response. "We are in a dip here. I don't think our signal will reach George. Frankie, go back to the top of the ridge, and try again. Tell George to bring the Samil."

While Frankie summoned our driver, Rex gathered the sheep.

"Corporal, these animals are nervous. What do you want to do with them?" Rex asked.

I glanced in the direction of the Banner farm. "Herd them back to Mr. Banner. We'll get you there."

We searched the captives for weapons, but they had none. Twenty minutes later, George arrived on the scene.

"Wow, you actually caught someone," he said.

Rex snorted. "Why do you always sound so surprised?"

George grinned. "I thought Barney might blow his foghorn again, alerting the whole of Lesotho to your presence."

Barney glared at George. "You will never let me live that fart down, will you?"

George shrugged. "Maybe in a year or so."

"Okay, let's get these guys in the back of the truck," I said before George and Barney could get out of hand.

After loading the thieves in the truck, we boarded the Samil, and headed for the Banner farm, passing Rex, Mike, and Fred near the farmhouse. They walked behind, waving their arms, whistling, and encouraging the sheep forward.

Mr. Banner sat on the porch sucking on his pipe. The sweet scent of the Rum and Maple tobacco drifted on the morning breeze.

When I got out of the truck, an annoyed look crossed his face.

"What do you want?" he snarled.

"Good morning, Mr. Banner," I greeted, keeping my voice friendly.

It seemed like the joy in my voice soured his face even more. "And what's so good about this morning?" he inquired.

Ignoring his comment, I pointed to his sheep pasture. "Are you perhaps missing any sheep this morning?"

He removed the pipe from his mouth. "As a matter of fact, I am. What do you plan to do about it?"

I smiled and indicated to where Rex and the rest herded the four sheep up the road toward the farmhouse. "We caught two thieves herding those four sheep toward the river. They came from this direction so I thought it might be your animals."

Mr. Banner never liked the military, and he always sent complaints about us to control about how we were neglecting his farm, and I thought he might gave us a break of that incident, but his reaction took me by surprise.

He turned pale and jumped to his feet. His pipe slipped from his grasped and clattered on the flagstone, breaking in half. He took two steps forward, looking at where his lost sheep darted back to join the rest of the herd, bleating with delight to be back with their family.

I frowned at the expression on his face. I hoped to see a little gratitude, but what I saw was fear.

Mr. Banner took a moment to regain his composure, and then he turned to me. "You did what?"

I explained how we noticed the two with the sheep, and how we caught them.

He shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "Where are these thieves now?"

I jutted my thumb toward the truck. "They are in the back."

Mr. Banner always acted peculiar, but his behavior was more curious than ever. For a person that always complained about his stolen sheep, I thought he would be happy that we found his animals.

The look on his face was not one of happiness. He wasn't even angry. He was worried. It was the look of someone that got caught with their hand in the cookie jar, and now waited for his punishment.

Then the light went on for me. "Those sheep weren't stolen, were they?"

The old man's face look tired and he hung his head. "No I sold it to those two you caught."

I threw my arms into the air. "Then why lie about it? This is not the first time either is it?"

The old man's shoulders slumped even more, and he shook his head. "No, I've sold to them before. I have an arrangement with the people from that side of the border. I sell sheep, cows, and chickens to them, and they don't steal my stock."

With a look of puzzlement on my face, I had the intense desire to order the old man to drop for fifty pushups. At least if someone in the military stuffed up, the punishment was obvious. Dealing with civilians posed a whole other problem.

If I reported what happened to control, Mr. Banner would be arrested and thrown in jail. The man was a thorn in our side, but I didn't wish any ill toward him. I glanced over at George, who heard the conversation. He shrugged, and I could see in his eyes he was glad he wasn't in my shoes.

The anger that was always in Mr. Banner's eyes had left. He knew he was in trouble. "What now, Corporal?"

That was a good question. I had no idea. So far our training concentrated on fighting the enemy. If it was a problem, shoot it. But shooting Mr. Banner wouldn't have solved my problem.

I scratched my head. "There's one thing I don't understand. You knew very well that you were selling your animals. Why did you report them to control as stolen and blame us for not preventing it? Do you just want to cause trouble for us?"

Mr. Banner sighed and shook his gray head. "No, Corporal, I didn't want to cause trouble for you."

If his intention was not to cause trouble, I failed to understand his reason. I frowned. "Sir, if that was not your intention, I fail to see your motive."

Mr. Banner looked tired and embarrassed. "I had my own reasons," he mumbled.

I shook my head. "If you don't tell me what they are, I have no option but to radio this in, and then I can't help you."

His faded blue eyes held my gaze, and I noticed the immense sadness. "Since my Kitty died a few years ago, I have nobody to talk to."

He paused for a moment. "When I phoned the base, there was somebody I could talk to on the other end of the line."

Mr. Banner turned back to the porch and sat down in his chair, fiddling with his broken pipe. For a moment I stood and stared at the man. He caused us so much trouble because he was lonely. It was his way to seek attention.

I approached the porch, and stopped at the bottom of the steps. "Why don't you talk to Mrs. Harris? I am sure she'll like the company."

Mr. Banner snorted and glanced in the direction of her farm, scared she might hear what he had to say. "That old bat won't give me the time of day."

I removed my bush hat and ran a hand though my short, spiky hair. "Sir, I'm not going to report this incident, but consider it your last warning. Next time you might not be so fortunate."

He looked at me with gratitude. "Thank you, Corporal. I am sorry if my calls to the base caused you any trouble."

I waved my hand in the air. "Nothing I couldn't handle, but next time you want to talk to someone, please phone Mrs. Harris."

Mr. Banner groaned and worked on his pipe, but from the sudden sparkle in his eyes, I could see he was not opposed to the idea.

I walked over to Rex. "Let those two go."

When I climbed into the cab, George smiled at me.

"What are you grinning at?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Damn, I am glad I don't have your job. That was well handled."

I stared at Mr. Banner as he instructed his worker to return the four sheep to their rightful owners. Loneliness could make a person do strange things.

I turned my head to George and grinned. "Well, I've done my job. Now it's time you do yours. Drive!"

Chapter 17

The following morning I climbed the water tower to send my report to control. Before I could even read my report, the control operator informed me that all sections were recalled to the base, and that we should return at once.

When I walked in, the rest of the section was in the kitchen, cleaning up after breakfast. The look on my face created instant silence.

"What's wrong, Corporal?" Rex asked.

I held up the radio. "Control says we've been ordered back to the base immediately."

George wiped his wet hands on a dish towel. "Did they say why?"

I shook my head. "No just that all the sections have to report back to base."

George groaned. "I do not like the sound of that. Mark my words, no good can come of this."

For once, I had to agree with my pessimistic friend. We didn't do anything wrong, at least nothing they would know about. Our section was positioned furthest from the base, and had to hurry.

"Okay guys, let's clean up and load our gear," I said.

Twenty minutes later, the farmhouse was cleaned, ready to pass any inspection. We loaded our gear in the truck, and headed for the base. When we pulled into the camp, the parking area was full of Samil 20s. The last time I saw that many vehicles on the premises, was on the first day before we all headed out into the field.

Corporal Lewis stood in the parking lot waiting for us. "Drop your gear in your tent and join the rest of the company on the rugby field."

We grabbed our backpacks and battle webbing and hauled it to our tent. On the rugby field the rest of the company was assembled in formation, waiting for us to join. I dropped my gear on the bed, and led my squad to the rugby field.

Sergeant Major Wise stood in front of the assembly with his hands folded over his barrel chest. "Is this the last of them?"

Corporal Lewis nodded. "Yes, Sergeant Major. This is the last section."

He continued to glare at the company while we joined the rest in formation. I did not like the look of the whole thing. I kept hoping the assembly was merely to share some important news, but my hopes were soon crushed.

Sergeant Major Wise's handlebar-moustache jumped up and down when he yelled. "You boys must think I am an idiot."

I glanced at Rex, and from the concerned look on his face, I could tell he thought the same thing. The whole squad did. Who in their right mind would think the sergeant major was an idiot?

Sergeant Major Wise started to turn red. "You are soldiers that were trained to show discipline. We came here to do a specific job. One that is important to our country, but most of you thought we brought you here for a holiday. Well, in case you wondered, the fucking holiday is now over!"

He pointed an outstretched hand at the squad. "I caught all but one section doing everything but their job. Hell, some sections were not even where they were supposed to be. One driver took his Samil for a joy ride, and the vehicle ended up in a ditch. Unfortunately for that soldier, he survived with no serious injuries."

The sergeant major paused, but his moustache kept moving. "It is high time you little fuckers get a reminder in discipline. Just remember, what happens here today, you brought on yourselves. Let's start with a little warm up. Afew laps around the rugby field should do, and you better not take your time."

The company set off to run around the field. I glanced at my fellow section leaders, but they had no desire to run with the rest, and stood to the side. I was not about to test the sergeant major and joined my squad. We ran together in the group.

Before we made the first turn, I heard the sergeant major's voice as he yelled at the section leaders. "What the fuck are you standing around here for? The only section leader who doesn't have reason to run is running with the rest. If you think you're excluded from this little exercise, then you have another fucking thing coming. Start running boys!"

I glanced at Rex and smiled. Our section was the one that wasn't caught. Every time Sergeant Major Wise or one of the corporals tried to surprise us in the field, we were doing our jobs. Our TB was always kept clean, and we were always properly dressed.

Of course, that didn't mean we would be excluded from the day's festivities. The old army motto rang true. If one stuffs up, everyone suffered, and from the look on the sergeant major's face, we were in for a lot of suffering that day.

Running around the field would not be considered punishment. The sergeant major knew we were super fit, and after a while, it became a mere inconvenience. However, the six laps around the rugby field was only the warm-up.

Next we had to line up at the one end of the rugby field. When a corporal blew his whistle, we had to fall down and leopard crawl. On the soft grass, crawling on my belly, using my elbows and legs to propel myself forward, posed no challenge.

We would crawl a few meters, then the corporal would blow his whistle, and we jumped back to our feet. After another few meters, the whistle blew again, and down we went onto our bellies. After the twentieth time, it became a serious irritation.

"Look at those idiots," Rex said under his breath so that only those close to him could hear.

A few eager-beavers still sprinted ahead. George glanced at me and shook his head. Some people never learn. No matter how fast you went, you'll still be at it a few hours later. It was better to conserve energy and settle in for the long haul.

George was always slow when it came to any form of running, and early on in basic training we learned to stick with him. The new members of our squad were quick to pick up on this, and we were always together as one unit, even though we were at the back of the pack.

When the sergeant major was satisfied we did enough crawling, he decided it was time for buddy PT. Doing exercises when using the body weight of a friend; you had to make sure that you get somebody that weighed the same as you.

For me, that was Rex. We were almost identical in height and weight, and did buddy PT together since basics. Charlie always had a problem. He was always the smallest in the squad. He teamed up with George, who was only half a head taller than him, but George's stocky build weighed a lot more than Charlie's slender frame.

If the corporals bothered to check, they would have noticed that George never switched with Charlie. He carried his friend around without ever complaining. Normally when we did buddy PT, we were allowed to leave our weapons to the side, but not that day.

When the corporal blew his whistle, I lifted Rex onto my shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

The moment his feet left the ground, he started complaining. "Ouch, your rifle's poking me in the stomach."

I had my weapon slung over my shoulder behind my back to free up my arms. It wasn't going to work, and I moved it so I could carry it in my right hand, while trying to hold on to Rex with my left. We had to run twenty-five meters before we switched.

The ride on Rex's shoulders was no picnic either. The bony part of his shoulder dug into my stomach making it difficult to breathe. That carried on for about an hour. By then my legs were like jelly.

Somewhere in the midst of the exercise, the corporals noted that people dropped their buddies in the middle of their stint. If that happened, both had to drop for twenty pushups. Once Rex slipped from my shoulder and was almost riding on my hip, but I hung on for dear life, and I made it to the line without him touching the ground.

When the sergeant major was satisfied that nobody could stand anymore, he instructed a five minute break. I dropped to the ground, and lay on my back, staring at the bright blue sky.

Nobody said a word and there was not one complaint. It would just add as fuel for the sergeant major to make us do more. For ten minutes we were left alone to recuperate. When a corporal blew on his whistle, I got to my legs, which were still shaky, but I managed to stand.

Rex almost fell over when he tried to stand, but I grabbed him by the arm and helped him to his feet.

"Okay, line up on the side," Corporal Dye yelled.

"Shit, I'm going to die today," Rex mumbled.

I slapped him on the shoulder. "Well, at least we'll die together."

Through the tiredness he managed a grin. I glanced at the rest of the squad, who dragged their tired bodies to the line.

I kept my voice down so only the squad could hear me. "Come on, guys. We can do this. We're in this together and here to help one another. If one falls, pick him up. We're leaving nobody behind."

They all nodded at me, and although their faces showed their tiredness, the beaten look in their eyes was replaced by determination. And then the corporal blew his whistle.

By the time we broke for lunch, our bodies were exhausted. By the dejected look on most faces, so was their spirit, but not our section. We were too stubborn to give in that easy, and through our support for each other, managed to survive the exercise better than most.

"Go have your lunch, but report back here in thirty minutes," one of the corporals yelled.

I glanced at Rex, whose eyes widened. "Shit!" he yelled, and we took off running for the tent to grab our eating utensils. The rest of the squad was right behind us.

When we reached the kitchen, a line had already formed. Frik heard what went on and ensured that the food got dished as quickly as the helpers could shovel it.

Once the food landed on my varkpan, I started eating. There was no time to head for a table and have a sit-down meal. Part of it was mashed potatoes and some kind of stew, but I can't recall much of the meal, only that it disappeared down my throat in a hurry.

By the time I reached the washing area, my pan was empty, and I dunked it in the soapy water. After a quick wipe down, I rinsed the soap off in the tub with clean water, and headed for the tent.

I stashed my varkpan, grabbed a water bottle, and took a few sips.

"Don't drink too much. If we do more running, it will all come back up," I cautioned Rex, who gulped at his bottle.

"You think we're in for more of this shit?" George asked.

I nodded. "I don't think they're done with us yet."

Thirty minutes after we broke for lunch, we were back on the field and running. It didn't take long before people start hacking up their lunch in the middle of the field. When we did a fall and crawl, I had to watch where I went down as to avoid the wet and smelly patches.

From the swearing every now and again, someone wasn't that fortunate. After every hour, we got a ten minute break. I took a few sips from my water bottle to wash the vile taste of dried spit from my mouth.

The smokers would normally grab the opportunity for a cigarette, but most of them were in no shape to fill their lungs with anything but pure oxygen. For ten minutes we would lie on our backs on the grass and stare at the bright blue sky.

High above birds were swirling around without a care in the world, enjoying their freedom.

George squinted. "Are those vultures that are circling? We must look like we're about to drop dead."

Charlie groaned. "I feel like I'm about dead already. I don't think I can take much more."

Frankie sat up and locked his arms around his knees. "I thought that two hours ago, but I'm still going."

In the next session, a few guys from the other platoons collapsed. No matter how much the corporals yelled at them to move, they just lay on the grass, breathing heavily. Medics next to the field were called to remove them from the battlefield.

If any one of our section fell, two people were on hand to help him back to his feet and drag him along. It was close to sunset when the sergeant major finally decided that we had enough.

Without a word, we dragged our tired bodies to the tent, grabbed our toilet bags, and headed for the showers. With so many people in the camp, hot water ran out in no time, but nobody cared. We just washed the grime from our bodies, got dressed, and joined the food line.

This time around, we could have a sit-down meal. There was little chatter in the dining room. Nervous eyes flashed around, looking for a corporal, or the sergeant major, expecting someone to start yelling at them any second.

When we made it back to our tents, I removed my boots and fell on my bed.

"What's going to happen tomorrow, Corporal?" Frankie asked.

I shrugged. I had no idea. The corporals would probably inform us about our duties for the following day. I realized it was my duty to find out, so I dragged my tired body from the bed and went to search for Corporal Lewis.

He was in the mess hall, and said that we would be heading out for patrol first thing in the morning. I gave a sigh of relief, and knew the guys would be happy to hear the news, but when I got back to the tent, every single person was sound asleep.

I flopped down on my bed and closed my eyes. Within seconds I was asleep. An hour later, a loud whistle sounded, followed by a lot of yelling.

Chapter 18

Through the dense fog of sleep, I heard the whistle and the yells of the corporals as they tried to wake the company. At first I thought it was nothing but a bad dream, but when Corporal Lewis banged on the tent pole with a stick to wake the occupants, I realized my bad dream was in fact reality.

I struggled out of my sleeping bag and glanced around the semi-dark tent. The security lights from the base illuminated the entire place, and enough light filtered through the open doorway into the tent.

"What the fuck now?" Rex asked as he threw the sleeping bag away from him in disgust.

There was movement in every bed, except for the one in the corner. George was still fast asleep. Not even a hand grenade exploding next to him would have woken him.

Charlie noticed his friend wasn't moving, and started shaking him. "George, wake up!"

After a few seconds, George opened his eyes. "Fuck off, I'm not done sleeping."

It took him a few moments to notice the commotion. "What's happening?"

I shrugged and pulled on my boots. "I don't know, but I'm sure we're about to find out."

We joined the rest of the company that assembled in the clearing to the side of our little tent town.

Once everyone was in place, Corporal Lewis looked at us with his hands on his hips. "Assemble in your platoons. Section leaders ensure everyone in your squad is present."

The company broke apart and divided into separate platoons. I did a quick count and determined everyone in my squad was there. After I reported to Corporal Lewis that everyone was present, he checked with the other section leaders.

Satisfied that everyone was at the assembly, he dismissed the squad and sent us back to bed.

"What the hell was the purpose of that?" George asked as we walked into the tent.

"They just want to fuck us around," Mike said with a bitter voice.

I was too tired to get involved with any discussions. I slipped my boots off and slid into my sleeping bag. My head barely touched the pillow before I fell asleep. It felt like only a few seconds when the whistle blew again.

As tired as I was, at the first sound of the whistle, I was wide awake. Even before the corporals started yelling, I unzipped my sleeping bag, swung my legs over the side of the bed, and slipped my feet into my boots.

I glanced at my watch. It was an hour since we went to bed. Rex was not moving, so I kicked his bed. With a jolt he sat up and looked around confused.

"Ah shit, not again," he complained.

"We're not getting any sleep tonight," Frankie said.

Once more we filed out of the tent and assembled in the open area. After a quick check, I reported that my squad was present and accounted. Five minutes later, we were dismissed and returned to bed.

This time I didn't bother to take my boots off. I unzipped my sleeping bag and pulled it over me like a blanket. The rest of the squad followed my lead, and we closed our eyes to get some sleep before we got called again.

I wasn't even asleep yet when the next whistle broke the silence. Shoving the sleeping bag aside, I struggled to my feet.

"This is now just fucking ridiculous," George mumbled.

"It won't help complaining. The quicker we assemble, the sooner I can get back to bed," Frankie said.

Charlie grabbed his rifle and headed for the tent door. "Yeah, if they hear you complain, it will give them the satisfaction that they're getting to you."

Some guys from platoon three were not that complacent, and voiced their objections loudly when assembled in the clearing. The two corporals looked at each other and smiled.

"What is that I hear?" one yelled.

"Maybe we should go for a little run. A lap around the rugby field should shut you up," another said.

We set off around the field. At the back end, far away from the ears of the corporals, George issued a warning. "The next idiot who opens his mouth will have my fist down his throat."

"And we will help," Mike and Fred said in unison.

Before anybody could reply, I voiced my opinion. "Guys, we're probably going to do this shit all night long. Complaining is not going to help. If we assemble quickly and without fuss, they'll send us to bed quicker."

Nobody voiced any objection to that, and we completed the run without another word. After a quick head-count, we were sent back to bed.

I fell on the bed and pulled the sleeping bag to cover me. My muscles were sore and tired, and the moment I relaxed my body, I drifted off to sleep.

For the next few hours, we got no more than forty five minutes sleep in one stretch. Every time we went to bed, we didn't bother to remove our boots. I fell on the bed and covered my tired body with the sleeping bag. When the whistle blew, I got to my feet, grabbed my weapon, and ushered my squad to the assembly point.

This went on until well after midnight. There were no complaints from any of the soldiers. Everyone operated on autopilot.

When Corporal Lewis woke the platoon at 05:00, we had no more than two hours sleep in total. We were given half an hour to wash, shave, polish our boots, clean our weapons, and to get the tents ready for inspection.

When the corporal entered the tent, everyone was neat and ready, but our eyes were bloodshot from the lack of sleep. The corporal stood in the middle of the tent with his hands on his hips and glanced around the organized space.

A slight smile played on his lips. "Corporal Dempsey, report to the store and draw your rations. Then you can head out to the field."

He turned and walked to the next tent. We looked at each other, not sure if the torture was over, or if it was another step in their process. To make us think that it was over, and just when we get our hopes up, change their minds and let us do something else.

I didn't want to take the chance. "Frankie and Mike, come with me to the store. Rex, get the gear loaded. As soon as we have the rations, be ready to leave."

George stepped forward. "Corporal, we don't really need the rations. There's enough food at the farmhouse. Let's grab the gear and go."

I shook my head. "That will be too suspicious. I'll be just a moment."

Frankie, Mike and me ran to the store, and stood first in line. The store master waited for us and had the rations ready. He also had a fresh battery for my radio. I signed for them, and we grabbed the boxes and headed for our Samil.

When we reached our vehicle, the rest of the squad was loaded and ready to go. George had the engine running. Frankie and Mike tossed the boxes to the guys in the back, and jumped in. I climbed into the cab, and George took off before I had the door closed.

"Are you in a hurry to get away from here?" I asked.

George had a stern look on his face. "You bet your ass I am. We need to get out of this hell-hole before they change their mind."

He wouldn't get an argument from me. We approached the main gate, and only after the guard lifted the boom and let us through, did I realized that I was holding my breath. I let it out slowly. As George drove down the dirt road, I kept looking in the mirror to see if someone might be calling us back, but there was no one.

When we turned onto the main road heading toward Maseru, George glanced at me and smiled. "I think we're home free now."

It was a relief being away from the base. The past twenty-four hours took its toll on every member of the squad. At least for the next three days we would be away from any possible danger coming from the brass.

George turned into the farm and parked the Samil under the huge white stinkwood near the water pump. I unlocked the house, which was exactly how we left it. Harry, the owner, did not stop by while we were away.

"What is the plan for today, Corporal?" Frankie asked.

Nine tired, expectant faces looked at me. The last thing they wanted to do was walk patrol.

I shook my head. "I'm not planning much, but we can't do anything on an empty stomach. Let's have breakfast, and then we can see what we can get done."

That reminded them that we left the base without breakfast, and that everyone was hungry. Fred and Mike cut thick slices of the two-day old bread, while Charlie and Frankie made scrambled eggs. George and Rex made coffee for everyone.

After we wolfed down the food, my eyelids felt heavy. I looked at the tired faces around the table, and knew that nothing would get done that day. Everyone pitched in to clean the kitchen.

Once the place was cleaned, they waited for orders.

I looked at Frankie. "You and I will take the first shift. We'll watch for any unwelcome visitors. The rest of you get some sleep."

There were no arguments. Five minutes later, everyone was out. Frankie and I moved outside to keep an eye on the road leading to the farmhouse.

The road coming down the hill from Ladybrand was clearly visible in the distance. It was easy to spot a vehicle on the dirt road. The road didn't carry much traffic. If there were more than three cars an hour on the road, the local farmers joked that it was now bumper to bumper traffic.

While I stood guard, my mind worked on answers what to do if the sergeant major did make a showing. Once we spotted his vehicle, we had about five minutes before he stopped at the farmhouse. Five minutes didn't sound like a lot, but it was amazing how much a soldier could get done in that time.

I glanced at the clearing in front of the house where we normally made a braai. It was only a matter of time before someone did check up on us, so I had to come up with a better plan.

I called Frankie. "Give me a hand."

We moved the braai to the side.

"What do you have in mind?" Frankie asked.

I waved my hands over the empty space. "I want to build a rough model of the river area here. If someone shows up, we can pretend to be planning an ambush or a patrol. If the sergeant major pitches up here and find us just hanging around the house, he's bound to give us shit."

Frankie nodded. "Good thinking."

We kept one eye on the road, but built a realistic model of the river area. Frankie surprised me with his artistic talent. When it was time to wake the next guard shift, we had a rough model in place.

Frankie woke Barney and Nick, while I kept a watchful eye on the road.

"What's this?" Nick asked as he stepped out of the house, giving a long yawn.

I explained my plan and then turned for the house. "Wake me up in two hours."

In the room, I placed my rifle next to my bed and lay my head on the pillow. It took me five seconds to fall asleep.

Six hours later Rex woke me. "George said I must wake you at noon, but there's nothing going on, so I let you sleep a little longer."

I glanced at my watch. It was a few minutes before four.Only Frankie and I were left in the room.

I gave a long yawn and stretch my arms wide. "Thanks, I needed that."

When I stepped outside, I got a surprise. Our crude model had a transformation. It was now a more realistic version of our patrol area next to the river. There were rocks, grass, mock trees, and even a very realistic depiction of the two-track dirt road.

"What do you think?" Rex asked.

"It looks good. Who did this?" I asked.

Rex smiled. "We all did. Every guard shift added a bit."

Ten plastic lawn chairs were positioned around the model.

I glanced around the yard. Harry Tovey sat near the pump smoking a cigarette, keeping an eye on the road. "Where are the rest of the guys?"

Rex jutted a thumb toward the cowshed. "George is getting milk and collecting eggs, while Charlie's picking vegetables from the garden. They'll start with dinner soon. They better hurry, I'm starving."

I smiled at my friend who was always hungry. After all the exercise from the previous day, I could do with a proper meal. Charlie came around the corner with an arm-full of tomatoes, onions and potatoes.

"How does spaghetti bolognaise sound?" he asked.

My tummy gave a loud growl. "It sounds good."

While George and Charlie set about preparing dinner, I took a walk to the horse pen and hoisted myself onto the railing. The four horses grazed in the field, ignoring my presence. For the first time in more than a day, I had time for my own thoughts.

In the base I never had time to phone Charlotte. She expected a call from me every third day when we returned to base. I sighed. Missing a call would not help our already strained relationship.

Should I risk being caught and sneak into Hobhouse to phone her? After the events of the previous day, I was hesitant. If caught, it would not only be bad for me and my squad, but for the entire company.

I sighed. Charlotte had to wait until I return to base again for a phone call. I just hoped she would understand. When it came to me being in the army, she seemed to have very little understanding.

My thoughts got interrupted by an excited yell from Harry. "Corporal, somebody's coming!"

I jumped from the railing and ran for the house. I glanced toward the hill. The sergeant major's Jeep left a long trail of angry dust. He was approaching fast.

Chapter 19

When Sergeant Major Wise entered the farm yard, he found us sitting in a circle around the model. I stood at the one end with a long stick pointing at certain spots along our depiction of the river. He parked the Jeep next to the Samil, and exited his vehicle.

"Stand up!" I said, and the squad rose to their feet and stood at attention.

He looked the squad over, but everyone just stared straight ahead.

"As you were. What is this?" he asked, looking curiously at our handiwork.

"It is a model of our patrol area. While out on patrol this morning, we noticed three areas with footprints coming across the river. We're planning an early morning exercise for tomorrow to see if we can catch some of them."

The sergeant major stared at our handiwork and almost seemed impressed. It was not something that was thrown together in an instant.

"Who made this thing?" he asked.

I spread my arms wide to indicate the whole group. "It was a team effort. We all worked on it."

He didn't need to know that we worked on it in shifts.

Something caught Sergeant Major Wise's attention and he smelled the air. "What's that?"

There was no time to hide the food. George and Charlie left it cooking on the stove.

I thought the truth would be the best answer. "It is our dinner, S' Major."

He frowned. "That doesn't smell like rat pack food."

I shook my head. "We used the meat from our rations, but the farmer gave us a few packets of spaghetti, and we can use vegetables from the garden."

The sergeant major smiled. "In all my years in the service, it never fails to amaze how soldiers find inventive ways to enjoy their rations."

I shrugged. "We got bored of them pretty quickly."

The sergeant major stared at me with a serious look. "Well, get used to that, because in the next year and a bit you'll have to live off them. In the bush of Angola you won't find any extra supplies."

Several groans sounded from the squad, which caused the sergeant major to smile.

I pointed toward the kitchen. "The food is almost ready. Does the sergeant major want to stay for dinner?"

The man sighed, and I could swear even his handlebar-moustache sagged a little. "As good as that smells, unfortunately I have to go. Not all the squads are as sharp as you boys. I need to go check on them before they slack off again."

We watched the Jeep depart and everyone relaxed.

"Are you out of your mind offering him some of our food?" Rex asked.

I laughed. "I didn't think he would accept."

Frankie shook his head. "Did you see the size of his stomach? He'll probably eat three portions."

I slapped him on the shoulder. "Just make sure he doesn't hear you say that. You'll be running until your grandkids finish the army."

Rex patted his tummy. "All this talk about food is making me hungry. Let's eat."

Laughter sounded across the yard as we filed into the kitchen. The torture from the previous day already pushed to the back of our minds.

"I take it you never got a chance to phone Charlotte yesterday," Rex said as we sat around the table, each with a bowl of spaghetti bolognaise in front of us.

I swallowed down some of the pasta. "No, I didn't get the opportunity. You forget I spent every second with you yesterday."

Rex groaned. "Don't remind me."

He glanced at George. "I hope there's seconds."

George smiled at Charlie. "I told you that will happen."

The atmosphere in the kitchen was relaxed. The day before, while we did the strenuous exercises, it was hell, but now we could discuss it, and even laugh about it, like it was a distant memory.

Frankie swallowed down another forkful of pasta. "What do you plan for the rest of the afternoon, Corporal?"

I shrugged. "Nothing much. I want to visit some of the farmers to see what happened in our absence, but I don't need the entire squad. Rex, you can take Charlie and two others and ride a patrol with the horses. They need the exercise."

Charlie's eyes sparkled. On the back of a horse, he was in his element. His desire to be a jockey on racehorses was about a lot more than just his size. He truly loved horses.

After our early dinner, we cleaned up the kitchen, and while Rex, Charlie, Harry and Nick saddled the horses, the rest of us headed out in the truck. We stopped at every farm along our patrol route, and the hearty welcome we received from each farmer, was a big change from the cold greetings we received when we first started to patrol the area. After our previous run-in, Mr. Banner was more civilized and greeted us like old friends.

The farmers reported no incidents. The Lesotho border crossers found it too dangerous to cross the river in our patrol area, and chose to stay away. We found out a few days later that there was an increase of crossings and cattle thefts in some of the other sectors.

The next two days we spent patrolling along the river. Although we spotted footprints in the soft sand of the riverbed, the farmers reported no loss of livestock. We speculated that the prints belonged to people who came for a midnight visit with friends on the South African side of the border.

Two days later, we returned to the base with a lot of apprehension, but we found the place quiet. When every section was back in the base, the place was packed, but now with only three sections in for a rest day, it felt empty.

We carried our packs to the tent.

Rex glanced around as we walked, his eyes darting, looking for trouble. "It sure is quiet here."

George snorted. "It's too quiet for my liking. Trouble's probably waiting to ambush us around the next corner."

Fred and Mike led the way, and just in case George was right, they stopped at the edge of the tent-town and peeked around the corner. They looked at each other and shrugged. There was nothing.

I glanced at George, who had a big grin on his face.

After we dropped our gear in the tent, we headed over to the kitchen. Frik was busy taking inventory of the kitchen supplies.

He looked up when we walked into the mess hall. "Ah, glad to see you guys are still alive. You left the other day without saying goodbye."

I had a sheepish grin on my face. "We had to get out of here as quick as we could, before someone changed their mind and decided we had to run some more. What about you? Did they make you run that day?"

Frik snorted. "That'll be the day. They learned a long time ago not to mess with the person who prepares their food."

I smiled at the thought when Frik first took over the kitchen. There were two corporals who gave him a hard time, but after a series of stomach problems and a stint in the medical center, they left Frik alone. Since then, nobody dared to mess with him.

I clapped my hands together. "So what do you want us to do today?"

Frik indicated the pile of potatoes in the corner. "You guys can start on that while I finish this inventory. I have to give this to the staff sergeant in less than an hour."

We each grabbed a knife and made ourselves comfortable around the mountain of potatoes. Never again will we complain about kitchen work. It beat the hell out of running and crawling around the rugby field.

Rex glanced at me. "Are you going to phone her today?"

For the last three days I thought about what I would say to her, seeing that our last conversation didn't go so well. To be honest, I didn't know what to say, or what to expect.

I sighed. "Yes. I just hope it goes better than the last time."

Rex shook his head in sympathy. "I think I'd rather deal with the sergeant major."

The others laughed, knowing about Rex's fear for the opposite sex, but I had to agree with him. I knew I had to phone Charlotte after lunch, but this time, I didn't look forward to the call, and had an uneasy feeling about what was coming.

The rest of the morning dragged by, and while the rest of the squad passed the time with peeling potatoes and easy conversation, I was occupied with my own thoughts. With my last conversation with Charlotte, I got the feeling that she wanted to break off the relationship, but didn't know how.

I wasn't about to make it any easier on her either. She was not the only one who had a tough time. She made it sound like I was on a holiday having fun while she suffered at home.

When it was time for lunch, I made sure I was in the front of the queue. Once I had my food on my varkpan, I made it to the nearest table, sat down, and started shoveling the food down my throat.

Frik did a good job making a decent meal with the pork chops and mashed potatoes, but I hardly noticed. Before the rest of my squad could reach the table, I was already done, and made a dash for the washing area to clean my varkpan and cutlery.

Not only did I want to get to the phone first, but I also wanted to give myself a few extra minutes to talk. I reached the phone and lifted the receiver with trembling hands.

With a shaky finger, I dialed her number. After a few seconds, the phone started to ring.

On the third ring, Charlotte answered. "Brown residence, this is Charlotte."

The sadness had left her voice, and she almost sounded upbeat and happy. I was far away. What the hell did she have to be happy about?

I took a deep breath. "Hello, Charlotte."

"Chris, this is a surprise," she said, but didn't sound all that surprised.

I ignored the comment. "Sorry I didn't phone earlier, but the last time we were in the base, I was too busy being chased up and down by the sergeant major to get near a phone."

Her voice was an accusation. "You should've told him that you needed to phone me. I'm sure he would have understood."

I removed the receiver from my ear and stared at the instrument in disbelief. This woman clearly had no idea of how the military worked.

"Chris, are you still there?" I heard her voice.

I held the phone to my ear. "Yes, I'm here. How are you doing?"

She sighed. "Under the circumstance, I'm doing quite well."

There was that accusation in her voice again.

"I'm sorry I can't be there with you right now. Believe me, I'd much rather be with you than here," I said.

"Sure," she said, but didn't sound convinced.

I frowned. "Charlotte, I have to be here. I can't just tell them I want to go home. It doesn't work that way."

She was quiet for a moment, and when she talked again, her voice was small. "Chris, I can't take this anymore. I only see you once in a while, and that's not enough. I need somebody who's around when I need him."

There it was. My feelings didn't count for anything. The fact that I was caught in two years' mandatory military service didn't count for anything either. All that mattered was her feelings and what she needed. That was a selfish side of her that I didn't notice before.

Then a thought struck me. "You sound like you already met someone."

When she didn't answer, my eyes widened. "Don't tell me you got back with Stan?"

Her voice was daring. "His name is Steve, and what if I did?"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "You can't be serious. Did you forget how he treated you last time?"

She hesitated. "This time it will be different. He realize what he did was wrong and promised he is a changed man."

I snorted. "Yeah, right, a leopard that changed its spots. Wait a second, why am I even discussing this with you? Last time I checked, I was still your boyfriend and we haven't decided otherwise."

Charlotte sucked in a sharp breath. "Yes, about that. I don't think I want to be your girlfriend anymore."

I closed my eyes and could feel the blood drain from my face. "You're breaking up with me? Just like that?"

For a moment, she was quiet, almost like she didn't know what to say. For a split second I thought that she regretted her words, but she was not sorry.

"Chris, I love you, but you are never around anymore."

I had to suppress my anger. "We both knew that these two years would be tough, and we agreed to see it through, and then decide on the future."

"I know," she said after a pause. "It is just harder than I thought it would be."

"You think it's hard for you? How do you think I feel with people yelling and screaming at me the whole day, making me run and do whatever else they like? Do you think it's a holiday for me?"

Charlotte didn't have an answer to that. No matter what I said, it wouldn't make a difference to her. She had made up her mind. Our relationship was over, and by the sound of it, she already had someone else.

I sighed. "Well, then there's nothing left to say."

Without another word, I hung up the phone. Anger coursed through my veins and pulsed in my temples. I clenched my fists, and for a moment, I considered ripping the phone from the wall and tossing it down the hall.

The soldier waiting in line behind me must have sensed it, and was rather anxious to phone home. "Eh, are you done, Corporal?"

I swung around and glared at the wide-eyed young man, who took a step back when he saw my face. It took me a second to realize that he was not the source of my anger. I turned and stomped off toward the tent.

As I stepped through the door, I heard someone say, "That must be girl trouble. Only a woman can make a man that angry."

Chapter 20

The following morning, we gathered our provisions, loaded our gear in the truck, and headed out to the farmhouse. Ever since I returned to the tent after my call to Charlotte, the rest of the squad saw something was wrong, but left me alone.

When we arrived at our TB, we stashed the gear in our room, and Frankie and Charlie proceeded with fixing breakfast. Soon, the aroma of fresh coffee and fried eggs filled the house.

When we each had a plate of food and a mug of steamy coffee in front of us, George couldn't contain himself anymore. "Are you going to tell us what happened with Charlotte, or do I have to beat it out of you?"

The newer members of the squad look shocked by the way George spoke to me, but they knew he was my friend. Still, speaking like that to a corporal, even if it was only a lance corporal, was frowned on in the military.

I shrugged. "There's nothing to tell. She dumped me."

Rex choked on a piece of egg. "What? Nothing to tell my ass. A few weeks ago she was expecting your child, and now she dumps you? What the hell is wrong with her?"

I took a sip from my mug, which had a picture of Pooh Bear on it. "She says I am not around enough, and she needs more from a relationship."

"Sounds like she has someone else in her life," Mike said.

I gave a wry smile. "She does."

This time it was George's turn to choke. "What? Who?"

Rex's eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me it's that other twat who slapped her around before?"

I sighed. "Yip."

George smacked his huge fist into the palm of his other hand. "You obviously didn't do a good enough job before. Next time we go home, I'm coming with you to Brakpan."

The choir of voices around the table agreed. If Stan knew what transpired at that moment, he would've found a deep hole somewhere to crawl into and disappear.

I shook my head. "Rather spend the time with your family. He's not worth it."

Rex grinned. "You're right; he's not worth it, which is why he should be taught a lesson in messing with another guy's girl."

"Exactly!" George said, waving a finger in Rex's direction.

Fred and Mike looked at each other. "I always wanted to go to Brakpan," Mike said.

"Yeah, me too," Fred echoed.

Rex frowned. "Why? Didn't you hear? That's where the kids bite the dogs."

Frankie nodded. "Yes, I heard the people from Brakpan are so rough, they wear out their shoes from the inside."

For the next few minutes they discussed the rough nature of the people from my home town. All around, the people from Brakpan built a reputation as tough guys not to be messed with, but the people from more affluent towns tended to make fun of their neighbors, although never to their faces.

If nothing else, the banter around the table lifted my mood. Plotting Stan's demise with the rest of my squad probably wouldn't amount to anything, but it did make me feel better.

By the time we cleaned up the kitchen and mounted the truck for a patrol along the river, I was in a better mood. All the talk of bashing Stan's head to a pulp was just that. Talk. But it did lift my spirit. Although, if I ever had to run into him again ...

George steered the Samil along the bumpy two-track dirt road. I kept my eyes on the river bank, looking for fresh footprints in the mud, but there weren't any. In the deeper water, a big fish jumped, making a large splash in the water.

"That's strange," I said.

George frowned. "What?"

I pointed to the river. "Although we haven't had any stock thefts for a few weeks now, there was always someone crossing the border for some reason or another. Today, there are no footprints."

"Maybe we scared them all away," George said.

I shook my head. "I doubt it."

At the end of our patrol area, we turned up toward the farms. Our first stop was the Rogers farm. Before the truck came to a halt, the big frame of Steve Rogers exited his house to greet us.

The moment I laid eyes on him, I knew something was wrong. He always had a ready smile when he welcomed us, but that morning he looked worried. I didn't think anything could worry the big man.

I jumped out of the truck and walked over to the farmer.

His voice boomed over the yard. "Corporal, I am damn glad to see you."

I frowned. "Why? What happened?"

The big man scratched his head. "It's not what happened. It's about what's going to happen."

Steve Rogers was an easy going man. Not many things in life flustered him, but that morning he was worried.

"This sounds serious," I said.

He glanced toward Lesotho in the distance. "It is. One of my workers came to me early this morning with the news. It has everyone worried, on both sides of the border. Somebody heard that there are people who plan to bring a consignment of weapons through here in the next few days. The locals have been warned to stay out of their way, or they will get hurt."

The news took me by surprise. "Do you know when and where?"

The farmer shook his head. "No, but I'm sure it will happen soon."

"Has something like this happened before?" I asked as I removed my bush hat and scratched my head.

Steve lit a cigarette and blew a huge plume of smoke into the air. "Not that I'm aware off, but lately the political situation is getting more volatile. Anyway, I doubt they will come through in bright daylight."

I agreed. If the terrorists will bring in weapons, they will try and sneak them in during the middle of the night. I thanked Steve for the information, and while walking back to the truck, I considered my options.

The rest of the squad stared at me. They didn't catch the whole conversation, but knew something was up. I relayed what Steve told me.

"What do you plan to do, Corporal?" Frankie asked.

I turned to Rex. "I'm going to drop you near the river. Take the guys and walk patrol along our usual route. Don't do anything suspicious, just act like it is a normal patrol. I'm sure these guys will have people watching us. After we drop you off, George will take me to the base. I need to report this to the brass."

Rex nodded. "Okay, but don't take too long. We didn't bring many provisions. The plan was to be back at the farmhouse by lunch, so we packed light."

I smiled. As usual, Rex was more concerned about his stomach. "Don't worry. We will make it back before lunch."

After we dropped the rest of the squad off near the river, George and I headed for the base.

"I'll wait here," George said as he parked the Samil in the parking area. He had no intention of leaving the truck.

I found Corporal Lewis near the mess hall. Surprise registered on his face when he saw me.

"Dempsey, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be out in the field?"

I nodded. "Yes, Corporal, but I received some interesting news."

I told him what Steve Rogers told me.

Corporal Lewis' eyes widened. "Why didn't you radio it in?"

I shrugged. "I didn't want to broadcast this sensitive information over the radio. It is probably better if they think we don't know about their plans."

The corporal stared at me for a moment. "Come with me."

We found Sergeant Major Wise near the tents, yelling at one of the sections that were in the base for their rest day.

When he noticed us, he swung around. "What do you want?"

Corporal Lewis told him the news. Once he understood what was at stake, he didn't hesitate.

"Come," he barked, and stormed off toward the main office building.

We waited outside Captain Harris' office while the sergeant major informed him of the situation.

Five minutes later, the door opened and Sergeant Major Wise walked out. "Corporal Lewis and I will follow you in my Jeep. You know your patrol area. Show me where do you think are the most likely place they would cross the river."

George's eyes widened when he saw me approach with the sergeant major and corporal in tow.

"Where is the rest of your squad?" Sergeant Major Wise asked when he noticed it was only George and me.

"They're walking patrol along the river. If someone's watching, I wanted things to appear normal," I answered.

"Good thinking," the Sergeant Major said.

They followed us in the Jeep to the farmhouse.

When we stopped in the yard, I jumped out and ran over to the sergeant major.

"It might be better to leave the Jeep here, S' Major," I said.

He agreed. "Corporal Lewis, wait here, I'll go with Corporal Dempsey so he can show me the lie of the land."

"Can I show you something first?" I asked.

The sergeant major nodded and I led them to the model of our patrol area. The sergeant major had seen the model before, but Corporal Lewis was surprised at the level of detail in our handiwork.

He whistled. "How long did it take you to build this?"

I smiled. "Not long. The whole squad helped."

I turned my attention to the sergeant major. "I think there are only three possible places they can cross the river."

The sergeant major looked to where I pointed on the model. The River made a gentle swoop and widened around the bend. On both sides of the river the landscape flattened, making it easy to cross on foot.

The sergeant major shook his head. "I don't think they will come across on foot. It will be more likely with some kind of four-by-four vehicle."

I tapped a second spot on the model, an area a kilometer downstream from the first, where the river widened. "Here the river is shallow enough for a vehicle to cross, but it is quite rocky, which will make it tricky."

The sergeant major rubbed his chin. "Depending on how many weapons they bring, the vehicle would be heavily loaded. If there are a lot of rocks, it might slice the tires."

"Which brings us to the last, and most likely place," I said, and pointed to an area where the river made an S-bend.

"This area is wide and flat and the river runs shallow. The only drawback is the bank on the South African side is quite steep. It would be difficult, if not impossible to drive a loaded truck up that bank."

The sergeant major stared at the model for a moment and rubbed his head. "They might have a vehicle waiting on the South African side, and then carry the weapons across."

"Which makes the third place still the best to cross on foot," I said.

"Okay, let's pick up the rest of your squad, and then you can show me the areas in person," he said.

Rex and the rest were waiting for us when we arrived at the pickup point.

"Did you see anything unusual," I asked.

Rex shook his head. "No, Corporal, everything was quiet. I did however get the feeling that someone was watching us."

The sergeant major kept his voice low. "They probably have scouts watching the area for any suspicious activity."

We mounted the truck and George drove down the two-track dirt road. It was uncomfortable in the front of the cab as I shared my seat with the sergeant major and was squeezed in the middle.

As we approached the first possible crossing point, I indicated it to the sergeant major.

He nodded. "You're right. This area is quite hidden and well protected on both sides. If they cross on foot, this is a likely place."

When we were near the second place, the sergeant major spoke before I could say anything. "It is amazing how realistic and accurate your model is. I recognize this from it. You're right, it's very rocky here. Even on foot, it would be difficult and noisy to cross. They'll try to be as quiet as possible."

We stopped at the last place, and the Sergeant Major got out and walked to the bank. He stood against a tree, and if anybody was watching, it would've looked if he answered the call of nature, but his eyes were alert and scanned the area.

When he got back into the truck, he smiled. "There is no way a vehicle can make it up that bank. It is steep and slippery. After seeing the area for myself, I am more inclined to believe they will cross the river on foot, and load the weapons into a waiting vehicle on this side of the border."

After we reached the end of our patrol area, George turned the truck around and retraced our steps.

When we reached the starting point, the sergeant major looked at me curiously. "Corporal, I have to agree with your assessment. That's the three most likely crossing points. After seeing it for myself, I would bet that they will use the first one, but I think we should cover all three just in case."

Splitting the section in three will mean only three people at each site. The thought of having to deal with an unknown armed element with only three guys, made me nervous.

The sergeant major must have seen it in my eyes and grinned. "Don't worry, Corporal. I'm not expecting you to cover all three sites. I'll bring re-enforcements. We'll have at least a section at each crossing site. I'll return to base now to make the arrangements, but we'll be back before nightfall. Is there somewhere at your TB where we can hide the extra vehicles?"

I nodded. "We can hide them in the big cow shed. It gets warmer now at night, so the animals stay out in the field."

We dropped the sergeant major of at his Jeep. Before he took off, he turned to me. "Corporal, make sure your guys get some rest. It's going to be a long night."

As soon as the Jeep left the yard, Rex turned to the house. "Let's get some lunch. I'm starving."

Chapter 21

While we waited for the reinforcements to arrive, George and Charlie prepared lunch. After we finished the meal of pap and stew, I volunteered to take the first guard shift while the rest of the squad took a nap.

I didn't feel like sleeping. The prospect of leading the squad to face an unknown number of armed gun runners was a responsibility that weighed heavily on my slender shoulders. It didn't bother the rest of the squad. They trusted my leadership, but they had more faith in me than I had in myself.

"I hope you're not thinking about Charlotte," Rex said behind me.

I shook my head. "I have more important things on my mind."

"That's a relief. What kind of things?" Rex said and took a seat next to me.

I glanced at my friend. "This upcoming operation worries me. It could be dangerous."

Rex's eyes sparkled. "I know. We might get to shoot someone."

I rolled my eyes. My friend's fascination with shooting and blowing up things worried me. "What bothers me is that they will be armed and could shoot back."

Rex shrugged. "Not if we shoot them first. Frankie doesn't miss what he aims at."

That was true. He could shoot the wings of a fly at a hundred paces.

I sighed. "I am scared that one of us might get hurt."

Rex stared at me for a moment with a serious look on his face. "Do you want to know why I am not scared?"

Even if I said no, he would tell me anyway.

"Chris, you see the bigger picture. You see things that we don't, which is what makes you such a good leader. All the guys in the squad know that and will follow you blindly, because we know that you will not lead us into harm's way."

"This is not helping," I mumbled.

My fear was not for leading them, but that I could lead them into trouble.

Rex slapped me on the shoulder. "Relax. We'll be okay."

I smiled, but was still worried.

That afternoon, Rex and Frankie prepared an early dinner. We were eating when the sergeant major pulled into the yard in his Jeep.

"That smells good," he said and licked his lips.

"S' Major, do you want a plate?" I asked which caused Rex to choke on a piece of bread.

The sergeant major patted his belly. "Thanks, Corporal, that will go down well."

I nodded to Frankie, who dished an extra plate and handed it to the sergeant major. After two bites, he frowned. "You made all this from the rat packs?"

A mischievous smile formed on my lips. "We have some provisions of our own."

The sergeant major chuckled and shook his head. "Well, this is good."

Since that morning, I saw a different side of the man who was always so hard on us in training. Out in the field, he was a different person, almost human.

Instead of Rex being happy that the sergeant major enjoys the food, he looked miserable because it meant less for him to eat.

We were cleaning the kitchen when the first Samil showed up with reinforcements. It was Nick Norton's section. He didn't look happy. His section was in the base for their rest day when he was informed to report to our TB.

Mike directed them to the cow shed, and several of them grabbed their noses when they got a whiff of the cow manure.

Frankie laughed. "City folk."

It was quite funny, seeing that he was a city boy as well. After spending some time with Charlie on their horse farm, and being on the farm at our TB, he didn't consider himself in that category anymore. In the past few weeks, we got used to the animal smells.

I went to greet my fellow section leader.

He looked around with envy. "Nice place you got here."

I shrugged. "It is not much, but we call it home."

Nick groaned. "I'll swap you any time. We have a cold barn were we sleep on old straw."

I grinned. "No thanks. We slept in a barn on our first night out and prefer our beds here."

Half an hour later, another squad, this time one from platoon three, joined us. After they stashed their Samil in the cow shed, we all gathered around the model.

Sergeant Major Wise glanced at the anxious looking faces. "Boys, this is no training exercise, so do not fool around. Keep your eyes and ears open, and do not do anything without my orders."

When everyone nodded, he smiled. "Good. Now that we all understand each other, let's get started."

He pointed at the model. "Corporal Dempsey, you know this area better than everyone present. What do you suggest would be the best approach to each crossing site?"

All eyes turned to me, and the spotlight made me uncomfortable. I tried to ignore the people and turned my attention to the model.

I took the stick and indicated the first crossing point. "Getting to the first spot might be the easiest. There's a footpath running from the main road all the way to the river. The section going to that crossing site can move unseen by eyes from the other side of the river for the most part. There are only two small areas where they have to leopard crawl to remain out of sight."

I moved the stick to the second crossing. "Getting to here will be quite tricky. There's a dry gully running all the way from road to the river, but I suggest the section going there move into position while there's still some daylight. In the dark it will be impossible to move along that gully without making noise."

I moved to the third spot without waiting for questions. If there was any, they could wait until I was done. "Moving into position to the third point will be the hardest. There's no way to do it in daylight without being seen, so you'll have to wait until after it's dark. The terrain is very uneven, so be careful. If you kick a rock in the dark, the noise travels a long way."

"And tonight is also a new moon, so it's going to be really dark," Frankie added. Nobody questioned his information.

The sergeant major nodded his approval. "I think that's a good way to move all three sections into position."

A guy from bravo section raised his hand. "How are we to get to the starting points? Do we have to walk there?"

The furthest point was more than five kilometers away. The sergeant major lifted his eyebrows and looked at me to answer the question.

I glanced at George. "We drive along that road every day, so if one Samil drives up and down, it shouldn't raise suspicion. There are hidden areas where my driver can drop off the squads without being seen. They just need to make sure to stay out of sight after that."

The sergeant major rubbed his chin. "Yes, that can work. Corporal Dempsey, I would like for you to take the nearest point. Corporal Norton can take the next one, with Corporal Dry the last."

My heart sank into my shoes. I agreed with the sergeant major's assessment of where the gun-runners would cross, and the furthest point was the least likely. I would've volunteered my section to take that position, as it would be the safest.

The sergeant major must've seen the disappointment in my eyes, because after he dismissed everybody, he called me to the side. "Chris, I trust you more than these other yahoo's. When the gun-runners cross the river, there's bound to be trouble. You proved that you have a level head on your shoulders. If we play it right, we can arrest them without anybody getting hurt."

That was the first time I ever heard him using anybody's name. He always called someone by their last names. I was honored that he had such a high opinion of me, especially since our run-in after Charlotte lost the baby, but that put my squad in the firing line.

"Are you nervous?" he asked.

I nodded.

He smiled. "Being nervous is good. It raises your senses and makes you think. The hard part is to understand what it tells you."

That was sound advice from someone with battle experience. I nodded and walked back to join the rest of my team. If I had to be where the gun-runners would cross, I was happy to have that bunch of guys beside me.

"Are you ready for this?" I asked.

Tension showed on their faces, but they all nodded affirmative. It was only Rex that smiled.

"Rex, no shooting unless I order it," I said.

He shrugged. "Of course not."

I turned my attention to Barney. "And definitely no farting."

"No worries, Corporal. I've got that covered," he said, and popped an anti-acid tablet into his mouth.

Frankie grinned at Rex. "It's a good thing we didn't prepare a chili dish today."

As the sun approached the western horizon, the tension on the farm rose. Everyone was nervous about the operation. Sergeant Major Wise didn't inform any of the other sections of where he suspected the gun-runners would cross. Thinking the terrorists might appear in their area, would keep them awake and alert.

The sergeant major consulted his watch. "Okay, boys, it's time."

I watched as the first section piled into the Samil. All the young faces were filled with anticipation and fear. They looked like they should still be in school, rather than going into battle. Ten minutes later, George was back for the second squad.

While we waited for George's return, we double checked our gear. We made sure our weapons were loaded, but with the safety on. In case there was trouble, the only action would be to flip the safety lever to the firing position, and squeeze the trigger.

When George returned, he parked the Samil under the tree. I locked the house, but left the lights on. If someone watched from a distance, nothing would appear out of the ordinary.

"Frankie, take point," I instructed.

For a moment I forgot the sergeant major was with us, and glanced in his direction, but he was checking his weapon. It was my section and he wasn't about to interfere. Besides his R4 rifle, he also carried a 9mm pistol in a holster on his right hip. The rifle looked like a toy in his massive hands.

We crossed the road into the field heading to the river. With taking the horses down the same path every day, it created a footpath, but in the dark it was difficult to follow. Somehow Frankie managed to keep us on track.

For a brief moment my mind drifted back to the first time we walked in single formation with Frankie in the lead. It was during basics and our first encounter with a war simulation.

He stumbled over a trip wire, which resulted in chaos and him dropping his rifle in the dark. The transformation from then to the young man that took the lead toward the river was remarkable. He grew in confidence and stature, and was sure of his actions.

Barney walked behind Frankie, and then me, the sergeant major, and the rest of the squad. George and the other two drivers stayed with the vehicles.

The going was slow. With no moon, we had to navigate through the tall grass by the dim light from the blanket of stars above. It proved difficult to follow the man in front of me, and I had to stay as close as possible to him without stepping on his heels.

The darkness proved an ally. Although it impeded our movement, it prevented our detection. As we approached the river, I heard the gentle flow of the water over the rocks. Running water always had a calming influence over me, but this time, it carried a hint of danger.

Trees lined both sides of the river and concealed the water from view. I picked an area in the high grass just before the two-track road, and directed my squad to take up their position. I didn't wait for instruction from the sergeant major. If he disagreed with my placement of the guys, he would voice his opinion, but he didn't say a word.

There was only a five meter gap between each man. Once I made sure everyone was in position, I crawled over to the sergeant major.

I moved my mouth close to his ear. "I'm going to check out the river. I want to see if there's any sign of movement on the other side."

The sergeant major grabbed my arm. "Stay out of sight, and don't leave any visible footprints."

I nodded and moved forward. Pausing at the edge of the road, I looked both ways for anything before I dashed over and into the cover of the trees. I ran in a low, crouching position.

When I reached the first trees, I stopped and leaned my back against the tree, clutching my rifle. With my heart that thumped in my chest like a beating drum, I looked around, but there was nothing to see.

I glanced back to where my squad was, but all I saw was the dark outlines of the tall grass. If I couldn't see them from that short distance, then nobody else could see them either.

I slid down onto my stomach, and using my arms and legs to propel myself, I leopard crawled forward. It was too dark for me to see where I shouldn't step, so I used my hands to feel my way. I avoided muddy patches that could leave prints behind, and stayed on the grass.

As I approached the top of the riverbank, I stopped behind a wild fern. The dark mass of water stretched out in front of me. At that point, the river was only a hundred meters wide, but in the dark of night I could not see the other side.

Tilting my head to the side, I listened. For a moment, the only thing I heard was the soft, soothing sounds of the river, but as I forced my ears to ignore that, I heard other sounds. In the distance, I heard a cricket, and the gentle screeching sound of a bat that flew overhead.

There was also other sound from nature, but I had no idea what caused them. What was of importance was that the sounds were there. If there was any human presence, everything would have been dead quiet.

I listened for ten minutes. My heart calmed down to a slow, rhythmic beat. Satisfied that I was the only one on the riverbank, I turned and crawled back to my waiting squad.

Chapter 22

It was just past noon when I opened my eyes. For the past two nights we watched the crossing point, but there was no sign of the gun runners. The previous afternoon I visited Steve Rogers, and he confirmed that the locals still expected the smugglers to cross the river in our area.

I looked around the room. The majority of people were still asleep. When it was just my section in the room, we had a lot of space. Now we had to share the space with the other two sections, which made the room cramped.

We refused to give up any of our mattresses, and moved them together in the near corner. The other guys had to roll out their sleeping bags on the hardwood floor.

I slipped on my boots and step over the bodies on my way to the bathroom. After I took care of nature's call, I headed to the kitchen. Frankie and Rex were preparing lunch.

"You're up early," I said.

Rex patted his stomach. "The growling woke me up."

I looked at Frankie. "What's your excuse?"

Frankie threw an accusatory glance at Rex. "He stepped on me on his way to the kitchen."

"I told you it was an accident," Rex said.

Frankie shook his head. "I think you just wanted me to help you with the food."

"No, but I do appreciate the help," Rex said with his best looking innocent face.

I grabbed a mug, poured some coffee, and took a seat at the table.

Rex took a seat opposite me. "I take it we'll be going out again tonight?"

I nodded. "Yes, unfortunately the locals don't know the exact night when the gun runners will come, so we'll keep on it until we catch them."

Rex sighed. "These last two nights out in the field was a pain."

It was difficult to keep the guys awake. I had to constantly move between everyone to ensure they didn't fall asleep. With the sergeant major with us, I couldn't risk anyone dozing off.

We just finished eating when the sergeant major arrived. The smell of the food still lingered in the kitchen.

"I hope you saved some of that for me," he said.

I pointed to a covered plate on the stove. He smiled, grabbed the plate and took a seat at the table.

After a few mouthfuls, he looked at me. "The intelligence guys confirmed the information from your farmer friend. They picked up on chatter between two groups on both sides of the border. They expect it to happen either tonight or tomorrow night."

Rex yawned. "I hope it happens tonight. These excursions in the dark are messing with my sleeping patterns."

"At least it doesn't affect your eating habits," I said with a grin.

The sergeant major glanced at Rex. "How can you tell? He never stops eating."

He turned his attention to Rex. "You better get used to it. When you get deployed to the border, there's no such thing as a sleeping pattern."

The grin disappeared from Rex's face.

As the sun approached the western horizon, all three section leaders readied their troops. After two previous trips, the guys were not as nervous as the first time. We, the section leaders, had to be on our toes to ensure our guys didn't get too cocky. The threat we faced was real.

When the sergeant major gave the half-an-hour-call, a queue formed outside the toilet. Some of the guys skipped the line and went behind the cowshed.

I waited until George returned from his second run, and pulled him to the side. "Keep your eyes and ears open."

George's eyes widened. "Do you think it's going down tonight?"

I shrugged. "I don't know, but I have an uneasy feeling. Be ready to come to our aid when I call."

Twenty minutes later it was dark enough and we walked out of the yard in formation. I was secure in the knowledge that George will be within arm's reach of his radio the whole night.

Although everything was still covered in darkness, we found following the path easier than the first night. Frankie knew where he had to go, and led us straight to our position. Once I made sure that everyone was well hidden, I took up my position next to the sergeant major.

We settled in for another long night where something might or might not happen. As time passed, the knot in my stomach got tighter.

Around midnight I couldn't take it anymore. I moved over to the sergeant major and whispered in his ear. "I'm going to check out the river."

He nodded, as it was not the first time I've done it. I crawled to the position by the fern, and stared out over the water. Everything was calm and quiet. I saw no movement. I was about to turn and head back to the rest of the squad, when I heard it, a low rumble from a slow moving vehicle coming down the dirt road.

My first instinct was to dash back to the rest of the squad where there was safety in numbers, but I realized the vehicle was too close. I would be spotted if I crossed the road. Although concealed from the river, if I stepped from the tree-line, would have been noticed.

Feeling my way, I crawled underneath the wild fern, praying I didn't invade some creature's hideout, especially not a snake. I hated snakes and was scared to death of them. As I wiggled myself deeper under the fern, I didn't feel anything move.

The vehicle got closer. The tires crushed the sand as it moved forward, while the driver kept the engine running low to avoid any unnecessary noise. They travelled in the dark, which not only helped them avoid detection, but it also helped my squad to stay hidden from their view.

All my senses were now on high alert, and I took a few deep breaths to try and calm my thumping heart. As I continued to breathe in and out, my heart rate slowed down, and this improved my hearing.

The vehicle came to a standstill directly between me and the rest of my squad. At that moment I was glad the sergeant major was with them. He would ensure they didn't do anything foolish.

The driver switched off the engine, and I peeked through the leaves of the fern. I noticed the dark outline of some sort of light duty truck. One person jumped from the back and another exited the cab.

They looked around, and I could see they were armed with some sort of assault rifles. We had trained to deal with an enemy, but being in that close proximity to someone that meant to do you harm, was not something you could prepare for.

"They should be here soon," the man on the left whispered.

"I see no sign of those damn soldiers. They're probably fast asleep in their beds," the second one said.

I turned my head slowly toward the river, careful not to make any noise. I heard the sloshing of the water before I saw anything. It took me a few moments, but then, out of the dark shadows of the trees on the other side of the river, I noticed movement.

Figures moved across the river, and although they tried to keep their noise to a minimum, as they moved through the water, their legs cut the water with a sloshing sound.

They were headed in my direction, and as they got closer, I could make out eight figures. Six men carried wooden crates, two persons on each crate. The two remaining men were armed with assault rifles.

The fern offered concealment, but it restricted my movements. I wanted to move my arms to get a better grip on my rifle, but was too scared to make a sound. Between the waiting men at the truck, and the people in the river, I was trapped in the middle.

With a slight movement of my head, I was able to glance at the men by the truck. They didn't leave the vicinity of the vehicle, and looked around. Through the constant motion of their bodies, I could tell they were nervous.

The group in the water approached the river bank. The two armed men moved forward, holding their rifles ready to fire on any threat. The first carriers exited the water and moved up the steep slope.

With the soles of their shoes wet, they found it difficult to find traction and kept slipping up the bank.

"Hey, cut it out," one of the armed men growled.

As the carriers moved past me, I noticed they were unarmed. The gun runners used a few locals to carry the crates. The armed men wore combat boots, and one stopped next to the fern.

The smell of sweat and stale cigarettes filled my nostrils and threatened to overwhelm my senses. I had to fight the urge to gag. When he moved away, I felt light-headed, and realized I was holding my breath.

When the carriers exited the tree-line, they dropped the crates.

"Get the hell out of here!" one of the armed men said.

They didn't need to be told twice. The carriers turned, and ran for the river.

"Damn idiots," one man swore when the locals splashed into the river, their only objective to get away from there as fast as possible. "We better get out of here in case someone comes to investigate that noise."

"You could have instructed them to load the crates on the truck first," another of the armed men groaned.

I waited until the locals rushed past me, and then crawled out from underneath the fern. Using the noise they made through the water to mask my movements I crawled forward and positioned myself behind the last tree.

When the men grabbed the last crate to load it on the truck, I knew I had to act. Glancing to where the rest of my squad was, I hoped they were ready to back my play.

I aimed my rifle in their direction. "Drop your weapons and don't move!"

As my voice cut through the quiet night, for a split second, the scene froze in place. Two men had their hands on the crate, while the other two had their hands on their rifles.

I always found it amusing in the movies when the cops shout at a criminal to freeze. They never do, and the cops end up chasing them down the street. Now I made the same mistake. The gun runners had no intention of dropping their weapons. I just hoped my squad was ready to act.

The moment the men swung their rifles in my direction I squeezed the trigger. They were in the direct line of fire to where my guys were hiding, so I adjusted my aim toward the truck. The sharp crack of the shot shattered the silence. My bullet struck the front of the vehicle, well wide of the enemy, but it had the desired effect.

The gun runners swung their weapons in my direction and started to shoot. The instant that I squeezed the trigger, I ducked behind the tree, which was twice my width and offered enough protection. Just to make sure, I made myself as narrow as possible behind the tree while clutching my weapon to my chest.

When they started shooting, I realized they were armed with AK-47s. We learned about them in training and even got to shoot one.

I gave the men a fright when I shouted, which caused them to shoot wildly. Their bullets ripped into the trees all around me, but none came close to my position. The terrorists feared more fire from my direction, and dived for cover behind the truck. Even the driver exited in haste and took cover behind the vehicle.

Although they were now shielded from my position, they were an open target for the rest of the squad.

"If you move, you're dead," the sergeant major bellowed at the top of his deep voice. It was a tone that caused thousands of rookie soldiers to tremble in fear, and the gun runners were no exception.

They froze in place and ceased firing. They turned their heads slowly to catch a glimpse of the new threat. When they saw nine rifles aiming at them, they dropped their weapons and reached for the sky.

With the threat neutralized, Rex and Frankie ran around the truck. "Chris, are you okay?" They both shouted together. In the heat of the moment they forgot to address me by my rank, but I didn't care.

I stepped from behind the tree. "I'm fine. For a second there I thought you all fell asleep."

Rex snorted. "Who can sleep when you cause such a racket?"

The sergeant major grinned at me. "Good job, Corporal."

He reached inside the cab of the vehicle and turned on the headlights.

"Move to the light so I can see who we're dealing with," he ordered, and the five gun runners stepped into the beam of light.

Sweat glistened on their black skin and fear showed in the whites of their eyes. There was no trace left of their bravado from earlier.

"Bring those crates over here," the sergeant major ordered. "Let's see what they smuggled into the Republic."

The guys grabbed the three crates and dragged them to the front of the truck in the light. The sergeant major ripped open the lids of the wooden crates. Two crates revealed AK-47s, twenty in total. The third crate contained a number of hand grenades and plastic explosives.

The sergeant major glared at the terrorists. "What do you plan to do with these weapons?"

The five men didn't say a word. The sergeant major stepped forward and slapped the nearest smuggler across the face. The force of the impact dropped the man to the ground.

"Speak to me!" the sergeant major yelled.

The man on the ground looked up in fear. "I don't know. We were just instructed to transport the crates."

For a moment, the sergeant major stared at the men with hate-filled eyes. We heard a lot about the enemy, but that night was the first time we saw them face-to-face.

"Corporal, call your driver. We'll take this scum to the base and hand them over to the MPs," the sergeant major said.

Frankie, who carried the radio, stood next to me.

I grabbed the receiver. "Zulu, this is one two alpha, come in, over."

Before I could repeat the message, George's anxious voice crackled over the radio. "This is Zulu. I heard shots. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything is fine. I need you to come to the pick-up point, over," I said.

"I am already on my way, over and out," George answered.

"He sounds worried," Charlie said with a grin.

The sergeant major pointed at the prisoners. "Corporal, find something to tie them up, and let the other squads know to meet us at the road. I am sure they heard the shooting."

Chapter 23

I woke up surprised to see it was daylight. Glancing at my wristwatch, it was just after nine o'clock in the morning. It was after three when we returned to the base, and handed the gun runners over to the MPs. It was too late to return to the farmhouse, and Sergeant Major Wise insisted we stay in the base.

The brass must have been happy with our actions to let us sleep that late. Normally, no matter what happened during the night, we had to be up by 05:00. I glanced around the tent. The rest of the squad was still fast asleep.

On the bed in the corner, George laid on his side with his one arm tucked underneath his head. His breathing was rhythmic, but he didn't snore. He still wore the improvised T-shirt that Charlie made. The sewn-on spools on the back made ensured he slept on his side.

I got dressed in my browns, pulled on my boots, grabbed my toilet bag, and headed to the bathroom. On my way back, as I rounded the corner, I bumped into Sergeant Major Wise.

"Ah, you're awake, Corporal. Where's the rest of your squad?" he said in his deep, rumbling voice.

I ran a hand through my wet hair. "Eh, they're still sleeping, S' Major."

He had a slight smile. "I instructed the corporals to let you be. You guys did a good job last night and deserve some rest."

My mouth dropped open. This was a side of the hard-assed sergeant major we didn't see often.

He ignored my look of surprise. "You can stay in the base today and have a proper rest. There's another squad on kitchen duty so you don't have to bother about that. Oh yes, I had a chat with the staff sergeant in the kitchen. When your squad wakes up, you can take them to the mess hall. There'll be something to eat."

I nodded my appreciation. "Eh, S' Major, did you find out who are those guys that we caught last night?"

The sergeant major chuckled. "Once the MPs got hold of them, it didn't take much for them to start singing like canaries. They are all members of Umkhonto we Siswe, the military arm of the ANC."

I frowned. "What did they plan to do with the weapons?"

The sergeant major sighed. "The enemy is now inside our borders. Just this year alone, a bomb exploded at a military command center, and another at a court outside Roodepoort. No doubt they're planning more of these operations."

I was shocked. "Why are they targeting innocent civilians?"

Anger made his dark brown eyes seem black. "Because they are cowards. They are too fucking shit scared to take on the soldiers on the battlefield, because they know we'll kick their ass. Instead, they target innocent women and children who can't defend themselves."

I squared my shoulders. "Well, I'm glad we could do our part to help."

The sergeant major placed a hand on my shoulder. "Corporal, there's no doubt, your actions last night saved a lot of innocent lives."

When I returned to the tent, the rest of the squad started to stir. "Glad to see you're all still alive. It looked like the living dead in here earlier."

"I would still be asleep, but his growling stomach would wake a corpse," George said, and jutted a thumb in Rex's direction.

Rex shrugged. "What do expect? It's been more than twelve hours since I last ate. What's the possibility of getting something to eat, Corporal?"

I shook my head, but had to agree, my own stomach also gurgled with hunger. "They saved us some food. As soon as you all get into clothes, we can go eat."

At the speed everyone got dressed, I had to assume they were all starving.

"What's going on?" Nick Norton asked from the tent next door.

"They saved us some food in the kitchen. You better get your guys up there," I said.

Nick grabbed his clothes. "Shit, boys, we better move and get there before Dumont finishes everything."

I glanced at Rex, who grinned while tying up his boot laces. Like George, Rex had built his own reputation, although for a different reason. If he didn't shoot at everything, he ate it.

The third squad also heard what I said to Nick and sprang into action.

Two minutes later my squad was dressed and ready to go. I marched them to the mess hall with the other two squads hot on our heels.

When we reached the building, Frik stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips, waiting. As soon as I halted the squad, he started applauding.

"The heroes have returned. I heard you guys had quite a night," he said.

I dismissed the squad, and Rex stepped forward. "Give me some food, and I'll tell you all about it."

When we all had a hot plate of mash, sausages, and baked beans, Frik took a seat at our table. We all took turns in filling him in on the happenings of the previous night. Our plates were empty before the story was done. For once, there was no hurry, and we had time to sit around and finish our story.

When we were done, Frik looked at me with big eyes. "That must've been scary to be trapped between the two groups all on your own?"

I shrugged. "It was dark and they couldn't see me. Once I made my move, I was just praying that this lot was still awake."

Frankie snorted. "The moment we heard that truck, we were all pumped up on adrenaline."

"And threatened," Rex added.

I looked at my friend. "Huh?"

Rex grinned, and I had to turn to Frankie for an answer. "The sergeant major wagged a finger at him and said, 'Dumont, if you shoot before I give the order, I'm going to stick my rifle through your ears and ride you like a Harley Davidson.' I've never seen Rex looked so disappointed."

Once the group stopped laughing, Rex jumped up holding an imaginary rifle. "I was ready to shoot them all down, Rambo style."

I shook my head. "Well, I'm glad you didn't. I was behind them and you could've hit me. "

Rex took a seat again. "That's what stopped me. I didn't know where you were. I've met your mom, and she can be scary. I didn't want to explain to her why I shot her son."

The mood in the mess hall was as light as I've ever experienced in my short military career. We chatted with Frik until the staff sergeant chased us out as it was almost time to serve lunch.

"What's for lunch?" Rex asked.

Frik's mouth dropped open. "You just ate."

Rex looked shocked. "What? That was more than an hour ago."

We all piled outside and joined the lunch queue. After another meal, we headed to the tent for an afternoon nap. That evening, I sat and wrote my mother a long letter. It was still four weeks until we could go home again.

I explained that Charlotte and I were done, but I left out the part that she was pregnant and had a miscarriage. I could only pray that she didn't run into Charlotte. If my mother confronted her, she could spill the whole story. Rex was right. My mother could be scary at times.

Early the next morning, we gathered our rations and headed out to the farm house.

"It's good to have our TB to ourselves again," Barney said, and pulled his mattress to the other side of the room.

Once we stashed our gear, we mounted the Samil to go on patrol. With all the farmers we visited, we received the same response, gratitude for our actions.

Steve Rogers stared at me for a while. "You know, Corporal, when you and your guys first showed up here, I was skeptical. I thought you were too young to make a real difference here, but I was wrong. You and your squad make a big difference and we all feel safer since you guys patrol the area."

At every stop we were given something baked by the farmer's wife. By the time we returned to the farmhouse, we were well stocked with edibles. Upon our arrival, Harry, the farm owner, waited for us. His wife had sent out enough provisions and meat to feed an army for a week.

Our remaining four weeks on the Lesotho border were uneventful. We did daily patrols, held road blocks twice a week, and exercised the horses. Not once in that time did we get as much as an illegal crosser.

It was a relaxing few weeks. On the occasion that we had to go to the base, we found that the sergeant major went back to his usual yelling self, and we made sure to stay well out of his way.

In our final week, we had to erect a huge white tent in the base at Ladybrand. Frankie informed us it was for our farewell dinner. The mess hall was too small to accommodate everyone.

On our last night at the farmhouse, Harry Johnson held a party in our honor. All the farmers and their families were present. We were treated like heroes and received a fond farewell.

They made sure there was enough to eat. That night when we went to bed, even Rex complained of a sore tummy. After spending two months with the farmers, they started to feel like family. It was with sadness that we said our goodbyes.

Once everyone left, we cleaned the farmhouse one last time. Harry gave us a clean place when we first arrived. We gave him the same in return.

The following morning we had our final breakfast at the farmhouse. While Charlie and Frankie prepared the food, the rest of us loaded our gear on the truck. The mattresses were stacked in a neat pile in the corner.

As we finished breakfast, Harry Johnson arrived. He made a quick sweep through the house, and was impressed by the neat state of the place.

I offered Harry my hand. "Thank you for giving us such a nice place to stay. All the other squads were green with envy."

His handshake was firm. "Corporal Dempsey, you and your squad sure made an impression on the community. Before you came along, most of them didn't have much faith in the military. You changed all that. You even won over Evelyn Harris and Clive Banner. Did you see how friendly they got with each other last night?"

I smiled. "They sure did. A friendship between them might be beneficial for everybody."

Harry nodded. "It sure makes it easier to live with them."

While I did a final check around the house, Charlie said his goodbyes to the horses. Ten minutes later, we drove out of the yard for the last time. It was with a sense of nostalgia. We would all have fond memories of the place that was our home for two months.

Our squad was the last one back to the base. The previous time all the squads were together in the base, it was an unpleasant experience. This time, there was a more jovial atmosphere.

The corporals recruited some people to help with the setup inside the huge tent.

"Looks like the circus is in town," Rex remarked.

George looked at Charlie and pointed toward Rex. "Yes, we've got a clown and everything."

Rex snorted. "I suppose you're the animal act?"

George laughed and neighed like a horse. Charlie jumped on his back and pretended to ride him while he did a lap around the tent.

No corporal or sergeant major was around to see their antics. They were busy preparing for the farewell dinner. We were instructed to clean up and dress for inspection. When we reported at the parade area, we were washed and shined in clean clothes and shiny boots.

We filed into the big tent where tables were arranged in a large circle around the inside of the tent. It was cramped, but there was space for everyone at a table. All the NCOs and officers were dressed in step outs. It was fancy military dress that the ordinary soldiers didn't have to wear.

The colonel gave a short speech thanking us for our efforts, and then declared the exercise of having national service men patrolling the Lesotho border a success. He listed a few of the highlights that we achieved, and the arrest of the gun smugglers topped the list.

After the speeches were done, we dug into the food. Once the ceremony was done, everyone had to chip in to get the place cleaned.

Early the next morning, we mounted the Samil-50s and headed back to our main base. The two and an half hour trip back to Bloemfontein went by in a flash, because we had much to discuss. It was the first time we had a chance to compare experiences with the other squads.

Upon our arrival in Bloemfontein, we headed to our barracks. The once familiar surroundings felt strange, but also welcomed us. It was like arriving home after a long absence. When I walked through the doors, the place smelled musty. A layer of dust had settled on the once shiny floor.

I hardly put down my gear on my bed, when corporals Dye and Lewis entered the bungalow.

Corporal Lewis stood with his hands on his hips in the middle of the bungalow. "If you want to go on pass this weekend, you better get this place cleaned. You have one hour before inspection."

Preparing for an inspection was nothing new, and an hour later, every bed was neatly made. The floor shined with a fresh coat of polish, our weapons were cleaned, and we were dressed in clean uniforms.

To our surprise, there was not much of an inspection. Corporal Lewis entered the building, took one look at the perfectly presented bungalow, and turned to the section leaders. "Take your guys to the armory. Once they handed in their weapons, they can head to the busses, which are waiting at the usual place."

I didn't waste another second. "Alpha section, bring your weapons and follow me."

Instead of assembling outside the bungalow and marching to the armory, we ran. Our squad was first to arrive at the armory and fell in line. Once we checked our weapons, I made it back to the bungalow, grabbed my balsak, and headed for the bus.

Another chapter in our military career came to an end. After we returned, we would head out to Lohatla to start a new phase of combat training, but I would worry about that later. First, I had ten days at home to enjoy with my family.

The End.

**Glossary of SA Army lingo:  
**

Balsak = a sausage shaped kit bag  
Trommel = a steel box used for storage  
Varkpan = Stainless steel eating tray  
Pickset = a set containing a fork, knife and spoon.  
DB = Detention Barracks  
Campers = A soldier who completed their national service but had to do additional duties.  
Coin Ops = Short for Counter Insurgency Operation  
Bivvy = a square ground sail that can double as a rain coat  
Rat pack = field rations  
TB = Temporary Base  
SitRep = Situation Report  
Pap = A Porridge like dish made from maize, similar to grits.  
Goose = Slang word that refers to someone's girlfriend  
The Staff = Short for Staff Sergeant  
Sjambok = A heavy whip made from rawhide or plastic used for cattle herding.  
Naughts and crosses = tic-tac-toe  
Intel = Army slang for Intelligence received  
Dog Biscuit = A square wheat biscuit in the field rations  
Braai = South African version of a BBQ  
The brass = Military slang for high ranking officials.  
PT = Physical Training (Soldiers often also referred to it as Physical Torture)

MP = Military Police

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Email: Christelle@thearorasaga.co.za
