Colonel George Bromhead looked Eastward across the hilly African landscape as the sun sank behind him.
The british royal army had been positioned in North Africa for some time.
Bromhead was the son of soldier, in fact he came from a long line of military men.
His father had been wounded in the Great War and his grandfather Gonville Bromhead was given the Victoria Cross for his gallantries at the Defense of Rorke's Drift during the Anglo/Zulu war, Gonville's grand father had also served, fighting in the battle of Waterloo.
Bromhead was thirty four, tough, rugged and handsome.
He stood tall at six foot two.
Wavy blonde hair covered his head.
His tanned face was angular and his features, well defined.
The Nazi tank commander, Field Marshal Erwin Rommel, had a deep respect for Bromhead.
Bromhead's tactics had sent Rommel's men into a full on retreat during the battle of Tobruk.
Bromhead and Rommel had even personally met during the fray.
After acknowledging each other the two men commended each other on their tactics.
Rommel's retreat had given themen of Bromhead's division a short break but small skirmishes had become increasingly more common.
Bromhead knew Rommel was planning something.
The coloneol turned away from the horizon and went into a small room at the top of the bunker's watch tower, from which he was observing.
His second-in-command Lieutenant
Colonel Richard Thomas sat at a desk in the room.
"What are you thinking, sir?" questioned Thomas.
"I'm not sure what to do Richard." replied Bromhead, "Something's fishy. Look at the sky, see how the clouds swirl about, out that way." he continued, pointing East.
Thomas looked out over the horizon.
Bromhead was right, far out to the east a mass of storm clouds swirled around a single point, like a tornado.
"That's odd. It looks like it's happening only in that one spot, and its not moving." Thomas observed.
Bromhead nodded in agreement saying, "Something's happening Richard, something big."