Tobruk: December 13th 1941
The sun ascended over Tobruk. A few chickens and hens cocked and crowed as dawn begun. The sky was a pale blue, a few wisps of cloud hung in the air, and slowly drifted east.
The lime washed, mud brick houses illuminated the city as the rising sun caught its reflection. The city was silent, extraordinarily silent, the only noises being from animals and the small Bedouin market still carrying on regardless to the war.
Tobruk: December 13th 1941
Gen Freiburg watched the market, he watched the people, going about their daily lives and this made him long for his homeland, his house with its beautiful grounds and the gentle smell of sulphur coming from one of the nearby lakes which he had grown accustomed to, his wife and children, they would be going to bed now, as the sun set over New Zealand and arose in Libya. He was standing on the balcony of a large, administrative looking mud brick building, which he used as his HQ and personal quarters. He lent over the rough feeling balcony and took in a deep breath, he paused, held his breath, closed his eyes and blew out. ‘Time to get on with things’ he thought to himself and gave one last glimpse at the market and withdrew back into his room, pushing aside the mosquito net he sought his uniform and was shocked when he saw a little Arab boy, dressed in a white smock, standing by them.
“The door was open, you no answer” the boy pleaded.
Freiburg was going to reprimand the boy but thought it too early for such things. “Well in future do not enter unless I tell you or there is an absolute emergency” he chided the boy.
“Yes master” the boy replied.
“I am not your master as no more are you my servant” Freiburg replied.
“Yes master” the boy responded.
Freiburg shook his head and reached for his uniform.
“Mr Foster master” the boy said rather randomly.
Freiburg gave him an inquisitive look, “Mr Foster what?”
“Mr Foster, downstairs, waiting you, secretary sent fetch”
“Oh, what Captain Foster is downstairs waiting for me?”
“Yes, master” the boy said with a toothy grin.
“Very well, I’ll be down shortly, tell Captain Foster to find a seat and get two teas ready”
“Yes Master” and with that the boy left.
“Strange heathen boy” thought Freiburg as he stepped into his trousers.
Freiburgs HQ and living quarters.
******************************************
“Ah how are you Captain” asked Freiburg seeing his subordinate as he desceneded the stairs into the lobby.
“I am fine, and hopefully so will be Tobruk?” replied Foster.
Freiburg showed Foster into his office. ‘ Have a seat’ he said.
Freiburg took his place behind his desk. “Now what is it I can do for you Captain?”
“Well, sir, as you well know last night the 11th Indian Divison snuck out of the city under the cover of darkness and started the breakout. All reports indicate that things are going accordingly and that the Italians were surprised. However we have lost radio contact with them and cannot set up links with the eigth arm or any other forces outside Tobruk, but we did mange to tap into the German communications and it seems that one of the German commanders on our western flank is suspicious about the lack of activity in the city and has ordered for ariel reconiscence. So from this we can expect an enemy plane coming over for a look around about lunchtime but instead of shooting the bugger down I propose we fool it.”
“And how do you propsoe we do that Captian” Freiburg asked intrestedly.
“Well, yesterday our military police raided a local back market congregation in the city and we have a large number of the natives under arrest and a list of contacts. Now what I suggest we do is offer these criminal oppertunists and their contacts an alertnative other than a cold cell and little food. This is that we dress them up in unifroms, and we have a large source of such materials since the Italians left the majority of their laundry here. This will in turn make the pilot believe that the city is still adequatly defended if not even more so, and they will propably wonder wether reinfoircements have arrived, and send a report to the Italians involved in the breakout who will think the British armies in Arfica are stronger than which they actually are, this will coincidently lower morale of their soldiers.
Freibug smiled, a big cheerful smile, “excellent, you are a genius, if you pull this off Captain there’ll be a promotion.” He winked at Foster who stood up and saluted.
“You best be getting off then, inform me how it is going in a little while, oh yes and take Habib with you, you know that funny little arab boy. He returned the slaute and Foster left. ‘Excellent’ he thought, ‘that Foster sure had potential. Now where were his damned tea’s’.
**********************************
The criminal natives were only too pleased to oblige the Britsh and soon, oveerseen by Foster, they were dressed up in the plundered Italian unifroms.
“The italian and Britsh unifroms are indistinguishable from the air, it will do the trick” Foster explained to an even younger Lieutenant who had been emplyed to help.
Habib came over to Foster and smiled, ‘Mr Foster’ he said.
Foster turned around and was shocked to see Habib in full Italian military attire, however scruffy. Habib saluted, ‘what are you doing Habib you werent supoosed to dress up aswell you know, your not a criminal are you”
“Yes, Mr Foster” Habib replied saluting again, he ‘abou-turned and tripped over falling in the dust much to the laughter of Foster and the Lietenant.
Once all of the criminal insurgents had been organised into rows resembling military sections they were told to go in their groups to certain parts of the city, these included rooftops, barricades, and some defenses. Foster, habib and the Lietenant followed one group of these natives to an AA Battery situated atop a roof. The natives were ordered to gather round the battery in a military like fashion. The NZ soldiers operating the weapon were dumbfounded by the set up, and when asked what was going on Foster replied, ‘ confidential information soldierrs, all you need to worry about is that if you see a Fiesler Storch plane don’t hit it, make sure you fire near it but don’t hit it, we want them to see this show were putting on for them’ and with that they waited.
The enemy aircrafy appeared as expected at 1210 hours. It circled the city weaving in and out fo the sporadic flak showing up as black puffs in the sky, the pilot not knowing that he was deliberatly being missed. The aircraft then flew over the western part of the city and approached the AA gun were Foster was. He then ordered the natives to hoot and jeer at the plane but they did nothing, they stood and stared, amazed by the ‘magic’.
Foster was suddenly gripped by panic, the pilot would know that no soldiers would just watch and stare at a plane, he might think something is wrong. The young lietenant, sensing Fosters thoughts took command of the situation. “Right, listen up you bunch ‘o nomads, up their, that ‘magic vulture’ has been sent by the evil ‘Mydor’ to search for your children so that he can curse them and take them away in te night’ the Lietenant shouted in their own language.
Almost immediately, the natives admist the AA gun, roared their dissaproval of the 'creature', some throwing stones, from the roof, others trying to spit at it. The other natives seeing this, one-by-one, did the same. Soon the rooftops, gun empacements and defences of Tobruk were alive with the earsplitting, angry shrill of the natives and the enemy pilot seeing this reported on his intercom, ‘ I don’t envy the poor sods who have to take this place’ and with that cross-blessed himself and turned back in the direction he had come from.
The plane whcih surveyed the scene in Tobruk, on that fateful day.
Foster was exstatic, they had done it, he stared at the young Captain in awe and asked, "whatever you said to those arabs sure did the trick, what on earth did you say to them, and what more how do you know their language?’
The Lietenant replied, ‘ well my father was an archeologist and I soon became quite keen on it too and we spent a number of years out here on a Roman excavation site and I picked up the language, although its not one language they spoek round here, they have many tribal languages but they all speak one common one aswell, so as to communicate easily, and I said that ‘Mydor’, who the natives believe is an evil spirit was going to curse their children and take them away to his underworld.’
“You said that”, Foster said even more astounded. “Well im impressed and it worked aswell, you saved the whole plan from failing.” Foster held out his hand and the Lietenant shook it. “By the way, whats your name?, for future refereance” asked Foster.
Pearsons, sir, Lieteant Pearsons.” Replied the young lieutenant.
Foster looked at Habib, who was still, as were most of the natives, shouting at the fading siloheutte of the plane. “Well, Mr we’d best be off, General Freiburg will be wanting a report on the events” and Foster, accompanied by a thoroughly lively Habib left the rooftop. Foster however did give Pearsons a last order “as you seem to speek the lanaguage so well, would you please organise for the unifroms and natives to be admisnistered duefully, thankyou. And Lietenant, expect a call from me in the future”.
Pearsons, although given a hard task smiled at the Captains sarcasm, he turned and looked at the natives on the rooftop. “Right then, you bloody nomads, line up in a file, the shows over, you’ve saved your children and Tobruk and the world thanks you, now lets get going” he bellowed in their native tounge.
Foster chukled as he descended the satirs leading from the rooftop.
