We had been traveling for over two hours and the drive seemed like it would never end. It was already past noon and we were barely half-way to my new post where I was assuming command. We had departed my previous duty station mid-morning, hours after I had wanted to escape it. My desire had been to leave at first light, but we were delayed due to the strong possibility of an upcoming storm.
After several conversations where I felt like I was practically pleading with my superiors to approve my departure, I finally convinced them that I would be able to arrive well before the storm hit. Besides, I politely reminded them, I had already taken the liberty of notifying the unit of my early arrival and they might be concerned if I didn't arrive as scheduled. This last part was a complete fabrication on my part. I knew that Wilhelm Meyer would, if anything, crack open a case of champagne to celebrate if I went missing.
I had shamelessly used the storm warning for my own purposes. I saw no reason to waste any additional time. Originally, I had been scheduled to assume my new command on the following day but I was anxious to initiate it. This would be a different type of command for me, very much unlike any of my previous posts had held in Africa or in Europe. Instead of traditional warfare against a massive enemy army, I had been ordered to bring an end to Allied commando units attacking our units in the southern rear areas. My orders also included providing protection and support to supply columns when they passed through the commando infiltrated areas.
While this command would be on a much smaller operational scale from my previous duties, I believed it would be a better fit with my skills and background. Also, I preferred operating more independently from the main military units. Apparently, my superiors had reached the same conclusion regarding my abilities as they had actively sought me for this assignment. Instantly intrigued by it, I had wanted to assume it immediately. Its remoteness would give me the freedom and the ability to make command decisions quickly in the field given the rapidly changing situations. The transition from traditional warfare to a much more mobile combat theatre against smaller enemy units would be an excellent opportunity for me.
The posting had presented itself at the perfect time. I had found myself physically and mentally exhausted after so many years of war, the majority of it here in the desert. I quickly chastised myself for having these emotions and thoughts. My service hadn't been any harder or longer than that experienced by any other soldier.
I found myself looking forward to making a positive impact against the ongoing commando problem. I cautioned myself to be realistic. My predecessor had accomplished little against them and there were never any guaranteed success in warfare. It would be a difficult duty station, but I relished the challenge and would accept nothing less than complete success from myself. The Afrika Korps was already feeling the impact of the increasing commando harassment and the supply issue was critical to Germany's success in the desert.
I sharply pulled my thoughts back to the moment at hand and put aside my selfish thoughts regarding success. It was critical for me to stay focused and alert to ensure that I not become an early victim of my adversaries. I knew the commandos were out there, waiting to strike. I could feel it within my soul, even if I could not see them anywhere off the horizon.
Besides my Kubelwagon, there were only two other vehicles accompanying us. They were with us merely to provide support and protection. In turn, they would leave tomorrow, providing an even bigger courtesy to me when they escorted Meyer from my sight and command.
I knew it was dangerous to operate in such a small group with minimal firepower, but we were significantly behind German lines. I seriously doubted we would be attacked by the enemy, or even by the Arabs, for that matter. However, I cautioned myself that such over confidence opens the door of opportunity to the very thing one doubts.
The few times we halted were to verify our direction from the compass and maps. I briefly left the vehicle to stretch my legs at each stop, trusting the men to quickly confirm the coordinates. During these moments I observed the harsh beauty of the desert enjoying what little it had to offer. The area was so desolate and quiet, the only sound being the low idling of the engines and the quickening wind.
I found it hard to believe that I still belonged to the desert after so much time had passed since my last visit in 1934. Life now was vastly different than it had been, and long gone were the days of post-graduate carousing and womanizing in a steamy Benghazi bar. I sadly suspected the lovely Miss Norma was not hiding behind the ridge waiting to reveal if she was a true redhead. Those carefree days were over. Now I was fighting for my survival.
It was time to leave. I could sense the forecasted storm and it would be here soon.
The open air vehicle made it very difficult to have any type of conversation with the driver. It hardly mattered as I actually had very little to say to my adjutant. I was too preoccupied. When I wasn't scanning the terrain for the enemy, I found my thoughts drifting towards the entire North African campaign. The desert terrain was so different from that in France and the other European countries in which I had fought. In spite of myself, I had to smile at my thoughts for comparing the two theatres.
When I was in France with all the snow, rain and mud, all I had desired was to escape it. I had wanted to experience true combat without buildings and trees in the way, and without innocent civilians caught up in nothing they could control. I had no longer wanted to witness the destruction of homes and churches and everything priceless they contained. In contrast, the desert seemed to contain nothing but open space and pure plains, with few structures to obstruct and hinder combat. Also, mercifully, the fewer civilians were more mobile and suffered less collateral damage.
I believed the war in the desert was difficult at its best for the Wehrmacht when compared to the war in Western Europe. Fighting in multiple areas caused the supply issue to be very tenacious here and we never seemed to have the resources necessary to win. The Allied commandos only compounded the scarce resource challenge by making continual hits against our supply lines and depot centers making the situation almost impossible.
Water and petrol were probably the most precious supplies, not just for the Germans, but for the Allies as well. At times I had to keenly focus myself not to obsess about the lack of water. I remembered swimming endless laps in beautiful, crystal clear pools back home, immersed in the cool water. I never minded the monotony of swimming since it gave me time to reflect about everything and nothing in particular. I tried not to think about all the thousands of liters of water in those concrete ponds, not being used for drinking or even bathing, but merely for sport. I would obsess about it when I was drying out my throat with countless cigarettes.
With a start I pulled myself back again to the present. The African campaign was a reality which would continue into the foreseeable future. It was unlikely Germany would surrender any square meter of it willingly without fiercely fighting for it. I would continue to loyally serve here, contributing my skills and knowledge until my superiors determined I would serve a more useful purpose elsewhere.