"What do you say, Grandpa?" The Ras grinned a weary toothless grin,
but his wet clothing clung to the gaunt old frame like the rags of a
scarecrow, as Jake brought the car round the slippery, glassy hairpin
bend below the first waterfall.
"Pull in here," Gareth told him, and then scrambled down beside the
hull, drawing the Ras down with him.
"Thanks, old son." He looked up at Jake. "Take the cars up to
Sardi, and get rid of these-" He indicated the sorry cargo of
wounded.
"Try and find a suitable building for a hospital. Leave that to Vicky
it'll keep her out of mischief.
Either that or we'll have to tie her up--2 he grinned, and then was
serious. "Try and contact Lij Mikhael. Tell him the position here.
Tell him the Gallas have deserted and I'll be hard pressed to hold the
gorge another week. Tell him we need ammunition, guns,
medicine, blankets, food anything he can spare. Ask him to send a
train down to Sardi with supplies, and to take out the wounded." He
paused, and thought for a moment. "That's it, I think.
Do that and then come back, with all the food you can carry. I
think we left most of our supplies down there" he glanced down into the
misty depths of the gorge "and these fellows won't fight on an empty
stomach." Jake reversed the car and pulled back on to the track.
"Oh, and Jake, try and find a few cheroots. I lost my entire stock
down there. Can't fight without a whiff or two." He grinned and
waved. "Keep it warm, old son," he called, and turned away to begin
stopping the trudging column of refugees, pushing them off the track
towards the prepared trenches that had been dug into the rocky sides of
the gorge, overlooking the double sweep of the track below them.
"Come along, chaps," Gareth shouted cheerfully. "Who's for a touch of
old glory!" ROM GENERAL BADOGLIO, COMMANDER IN CHIEF OF THE
AFRICAN EXPEDITIONARY FORCE BEFORE AMBA ARA DAM TO COLONEL COUNT ALDO
BELLI, OFFICER COMMANDING THE DANAKIL COLUMN AT THE WELLS OF CHALDI.
THE MOMENT FOR WHICH WE HAVE PLANNED IS
NOW AT HAND STOP I CONFRONT THE MAIN BODY OF THE ENEMY, AND HAVE
HAD THEM UNDER CONTINUOUS BOMBARDMENT FOR FIVE DAYS. AT DAWN
TOMORROW
I SHALL ATTACK IN FORCE AND DRIVE THEM FROM THE HIGH GROUND BACK
ALONG
THE DE SSI ROAD. DO YOU NOW ADVANCE WITH ALL DESPATCH TO TAKE UP A
POSITION ASTRIDE THE DESSIE ROAD AND STEM THE TIDE OF THE ENEMY's
RETREAT, SO THAT WE MAY TAKE THEM ON BOTH TINES OF THE PITCHFORK.
"forty thousand men lay upon Ambo Aradam, cowering in their trenches
and caves. They were the heart and spine of the Ethiopian armies, and
the man who led them, Ras Muguletu, was the ablest and most experienced
of all the warlords. But he was powerless and uncertain in the face of
such strength and fury as now broke around him. He had not imagined it
could be so, and he lay with his men, quiescent and stoic. There was
no enemy to confront, nothing to strike out at, for the huge Caproni
bombers droned high overhead and the great guns that fired the shells
were miles below in the valley.
All they could do was pull their dusty shammas over their heads and
endure the bone-jarring, bowel-shaking detonations and breathe the
filthy fume-laden air.
Day after day the storm of explosive roared around them until they were
dazed and stupefied, deafened and uncaring, enduring, only enduring not
thinking, not feeling, not caring.
On the sixth night the drone of the big three-engined bombers passed
overhead, and Ras Muguletu's men, peering up fearfully, saw the
sinister shapes pass overhead, dark against the silver pricking of the
stars.
They waited for the bombs to tumble down upon them once more, but the
bombers circled above the flat-topped mountain for many minutes and
there were no bombs. Then the bombers turned away and the drone of the
engines died into the lightening dawn sky.
Only then did the soft insidious dew that they had sown come sifting
down out of the still night sky. Gently as the fall of snowflakes, it
settled upon the upturned brown faces, into the fearfully staring eyes,
on to the bare hands that held the ancient firearms at the ready.
It burned into the exposed skin, blistering and eating into the living
flesh like some terrible canker; it burned the eyes in their sockets,
turning them into cherry-red, glistening orbs from which the yellow
mucus poured thickly. The pain it inflicted combined both the seating
of concentrated acid and the fierce heat of live coals.
In the dawn, while thousands of Ras Muguletu's men whimpered and cried
out in their consuming agony, and their comrades, bemused and
bewildered, tried unavailingly to render aid, in that dreadful
moment,
the first wave of Italian infantry came up over the lip of the
mountain, and they were into the Ethiopian trenches before the
defenders realized what had happened. The Italian bayonets blurred
redly in the first rays of the morning sun.
The cloud lay upon the highlands, blotting out the peaks, and the rain
fell in a constant deluge. It had rained without ceasing for the two
days and three nights since the disaster of Aruba Aradarn. The rain
