Death in the Shadows (eBook)

A South African Hero's Struggle in the French Foreign Legion, Book 20

Meiring Fouche, Pieter Haasbroek (Autoren)

Pieter Haasbroek (Herausgeber)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025 | 1. Auflage
101 Seiten
Pieter Haasbroek (Verlag)
978-0-00-077742-3 (ISBN)

Infos

In the heart of the Sahara, a single act of mercy is about to become a death sentence for forty soldiers.

Sahara desert, 1940-1960. For Legionnaire Teuns Stegmann and his brothers-in-arms, the transport plane to Algiers is a ticket to freedom from the desert hell. But when a sick patient they generously offered a ride reveals a hidden revolver, their flight becomes a cage in the sky, hurtling them toward a brutal showdown.

Their lives are now bargaining chips in a deadly ultimatum. Release a condemned killer, or all forty soldiers die. But when the fragile truce shatters into bloodshed, Stegmann and a handful of survivors escape into a hostile wasteland, hunted by hundreds of merciless fighters.

Outnumbered, outgunned, and with no hope of rescue, they are the last line of defense for their captured comrades. They must rely on sheer grit and battlefield cunning to turn the tables, because in the shadows of the dunes, failure isn't just death, it's being erased by the sand.

A relentless blend of classic adventure and high-stakes military thriller, Death in the Shadows is a must-read for fans of Alistair MacLean, Wilbur Smith, and the pulse-pounding action of Lee Child.

Step into this unforgettable twentieth Sahara adventure now!

Textauszug

Chapter 2

STRANGE FOREBODING

The next morning, shortly before sunrise, Teuns Stegmann, his few mates, and the other fellows fall in in the square. They are the centre of ardent interest from the other men who are not so fortunate as to be departing on leave to Algiers, and among the men, there is a palpable excitement. For them, this leave means pleasant days by the sea, lovely balmy evenings on the promenades, cafés, in the nightclubs. It means for them good sleep in clean beds, good food, and pretty girls. It has been weeks that they have lived through these days of grace daily in their imagination and built castles in the air, enjoyed the joy in anticipation. Even when last week they had to undertake the long march in the murderous heat from Fort Laval where they performed garrison duty, they found relief in the fact that they would soon be able to enjoy their leave. For days now they joke back and forth, tease one another, play cards with the other men to earn a few extra pennies.

And now everything is ready for the flight to Algiers. Their little baggage has already been taken to the aircraft. It is merely shaving gear and a few clean clothes, that is all. With a feeling of deliverance, they watch the guards pacing slowly up and down on the ramparts. They receive the order to stand at attention, and then Colonel Le Clerq and Captain D’Arlan appear before them. Le Clerq addresses them briefly, wishes them bon voyage, expresses the hope that they will rest well, and asks them to conduct themselves as men of the French Foreign Legion. Then he salutes and they salute back, and the next moment they receive the order to march out the gate.

When the small column arrives at the aircraft, a small procession of Arabs awaits them. There are two men who look like chief dignitaries. They are the two who had presented the request to Colonel Le Clerq the previous evening. Then there are six who carried the stretcher. On the stretcher lies a tall man with his eyes closed. Although it is warm, he has blankets over him. Beside him stands an Arab woman, only her eyes gleam behind her face covering. On the other side stands an individual who looks like a physician. He gives final instructions to the Arab woman. Then he bends down to his small bag, takes out a hypodermic needle, and gives the patient an injection. On the order of a sergeant of the Foreign Legion, the patient is carried in first. The stretcher is taken through to the cockpit of the aircraft. There the bearers and the physician, as well as the two other chief dignitaries, take their leave of the patient and daughter. They walk out of the aircraft. The Legionnaires look frowningly and questioningly at one another.

“Is it necessary for him to travel with us?” asks Fritz Mundt.

The sergeant steps closer. “He is accompanying us on Colonel Le Clerq’s orders,” says the sergeant. “The man is gravely ill and must go to the hospital in Algiers. That is his daughter accompanying him. I don’t think there is any reason for you to bother him.”

Talking and joking, the men climb into the aircraft and take their seats. They feel rather light and unusual because they do not have to carry a backpack and a rifle. It feels unbelievable to them that they are, for once, totally unarmed. The most dangerous weapons among them are a pocketknife here and there, but otherwise nothing.

They are scarcely inside when the pilot starts the engines to let them warm up. Almost none of the men pay any attention to the two Arabs. The patient lies motionless there with his eyes closed. The Arab woman sat down on the bench just beside him. Takes a cloth from somewhere, wipes his face with it. The men are in any case so accustomed to Arabs that two Arabs here in the aircraft will certainly not particularly draw their attention. They banter and chatter, and it is all excitement.

Some even sing songs. Others play cards, however uncomfortable it may be.

When the engines of the large aircraft are opened up fully and it begins to move slowly along the runway, spontaneous cheers erupt among the Legionnaires. With gratitude, they watch the Sahara fly past beneath them, how the fortress of Dini Salam rapidly recedes behind them, and how the distant horizon draws nearer. For a few moments, they hear the loud rumble of the wheels on the runway, but then they feel that they are airborne, and they know that this, for them, is the beginning of a short but delightful experience.

In the fortress of Dini Salam, Captain D’Arlan walks towards the prison cell near one corner of the courtyard. Beside him walks the officer of the guard. When they reach the large, heavy steel door, all four guards there spring to attention. Their bayonets glisten in the early sun. D’Arlan gestures to the officer of the guard. He produces an enormous key, unlocks the lock, slides back the heavy bolt, and then he pushes the door open with a grating sound.

The officer of the guard, as well as two of the guards, accompany D’Arlan inside.

The three prisoners sit on a small bench against the wall.

D’Arlan looks at them as if expecting them to stand up, but they merely look up at him covertly and contemptuously. Therefore, he decides just to deliver his message without insisting on formalities.

“Hoessein Nasab,” says Captain D’Arlan, “I have come to inform you and your two comrades that you are now going to be executed. The commander of the fortress, Colonel Le Clerq, told me to inform you that you may have a spiritual advisor come if you so choose. Everything must be concluded as soon as possible. The death sentence upon you and your two comrades for the murder of four Legionnaires was confirmed last night by the authorities in Algiers. You will be executed by a firing squad in the courtyard of the fortress. If you have any last message, you can convey it to me or, should you prefer to convey it to a spiritual advisor, you may do so.”

A smile appears on Hoessein’s face. When he speaks, there is almost exaggerated politeness in his voice. “I thank you for the message, Capitaine,” he says in fluent French. “I thank you for the magnanimity of the French Foreign Legion, that you wish to permit us to speak with a spiritual advisor one last time. We also thank you for the permission to send last messages. We have always known that the French Foreign Legion is magnanimous towards the Arab people.”

It feels to D’Arlan as if the man’s sarcasm scorches his ears.

Therefore, he speaks quickly and reprovingly. “Hoessein,” he says, “I think it is a bit late for political propaganda. If you have any final requests, you must state them now so that I can convey them in time. There is not much time.”

“We have no final requests, Capitaine,” says the Arab. It is then that it strikes D’Arlan for the first time that the man seems particularly calm, even excited.

“No final requests?” asks D’Arlan.

“No, we have no final requests, Capitaine. You see, Captain D’Arlan,” says Hoessein Nasab, “it is not necessary for us to make final requests or to summon a spiritual advisor.”

“Have you settled everything satisfactorily?” asks D’Arlan sarcastically.

“We have settled nothing yet, Capitaine,” answers Hoessein. “You see, it is not necessary for us.”

“In that case, there is nothing further for me to say,” answers D’Arlan and turns towards the door.

“Capitaine,” says Hoessein Nasab and stands up quickly from the bench, “I have not finished speaking yet.”

“Then you must finish speaking now, Nasab,” says D’Arlan sharply. “I am not in the mood to stand here any longer listening to all your mysterious utterances. I came to convey a common human concession to you, namely that you can send last messages and that you can summon a spiritual advisor. If you then consider it unnecessary to do such a thing, then there is no further reason for me to linger here.”

“It is all in order, Captain,” says Hoessein. “I just felt that I should inform you that we have no need for anything of that sort, because we are firmly convinced that we are not going to die today.”

D’Arlan swings around quickly there by the door. There is a challenging smile on Hoessein’s face. A challenging, contemptuous smile that first makes D’Arlan think for a moment that this man must be slightly out of his mind, but the next moment fills him with a strange, inexplicable sensation that this Arab must be very, very sure of himself.

“We have decided not to die today, Captain,” says the Arab. “We have decided not to ascend to Allah today. We are sorry that we must disappoint you. Perhaps on another day you will taste the joy and satisfaction of shooting Hoessein Nasab and his mates dead. But not today.”

D’Arlan looks at the two other prisoners and, to his dismay, he sees in their eyes that same contemptuous certainty.

“Hoessein Nasab,” says D’Arlan through clenched teeth, “at ten o’clock you and your two mates will be shot. The firing squad has already been designated. In a short while, their rifles will be loaded. Now, for the last time, do you have any final requests?”

“No thank you, Capitaine,” says Hoessein Nasab and laughs. “The requests I have, I will deliver myself. You see, I don’t think we shall linger here for longer than half an hour or so. Then we shall step out into the free, warm sunlight of Africa.”

D’Arlan swings around so quickly that he stumbles over his own feet. He stops short before the cell door. He watches himself as the sergeant locks the lock again and slides the bolt shut. Then he turns to walk away, but not before he once again heard Hoessein Nasab’s...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 25.8.2025
• Übersetzer: Pieter Haasbroek, Ai
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• ISBN-10: 0-00-077742-0 / 0000777420
• ISBN-13: 978-0-00-077742-3 / 9780000777423