The scene below soon descended into dusty, noisy debauchery as the potent beer flowed. There was singing and dancing followed by random brawls and beatings. We watched one guy from the administration block collect more buckets of liquor. The crowd fell quiet as he did so, but the party soon returned to full swing when he had gone. Hannes and I sat in silence watching the proceedings until 11.00pm. By then the crowd had thinned with many stumbling back to their tents in drunken stupors.
The remaining stragglers persevered until 12.30am when finally, the beer was finished as the truck started its engine and drove out across the parade ground to the right. Five men were left passed out in the dirt. They were soon kicked awake by a man from the administration block who was stumbling himself. By 1.30 am the camp had fallen silent - even the armed guards on duty at the corners having fallen asleep slouched against the masts of the lights.
“We give it half-an-hour and then go?” I whispered to Hannes.
“Sounds good,” he replied.
We had roughly mapped the access points and layout of the camp and determined the number of people in it. We were left with one job; to assess the armouries and collect any other relevant information we might have missed from our vantage point. There was no doubt this would be by far the most dangerous part of the mission, but we had performed similar operations in the past with great success.
“I reckon we head down to the right, cross the road where the truck came in and go in from the back,” I said. “We can take a look at the vehicles and the armoury at the same time. Then we come back around the same way. What do you think?”
“Sounds fine to me. Let's go,” he replied.
After a quick check of our equipment and each other we started our descent of the hill towards the line of latrines. Our progress was slow and steady in the moonlight as we avoided any boulders or loose rocks. Eventually we reached the base of the hill fifty metres from the line of latrines. The pungent smell was intense and the tower light that shone into the base from the mast nearby made a constant buzzing sound from a loose connection. Hannes and I squatted in the tall grass for cover and watched in silence for any movement. There was none. We moved off to the right staying crouched in the grass as we went. We arrived at the far corner of the base to see the guard still passed out leaning on the mast of the light as he had been before. His AK47 rifle and an empty plastic five litre container lay next to him.
We passed the perimeter of the camp by forty metres before making a left turn towards the access road the beer truck had used. Realising we were exposed we crossed the sandy road as quickly as possible to get to the tall grass beyond. Once we were in cover, we stopped again to look for any movement. Seeing nothing we continued our progress silently through the trees up the right. Tension mounted as we approached the upper right corner of the base.
From our lookout on the hill we had been unable to see this area clearly and we had no idea if the sentry was in a similar condition to the rest. When we got there, there was no guard present although there were two plastic bottles lying on the ground near the mast. Hannes and I looked at each other for answers but could only conclude that whoever had been there was either drunk, missing, or both. We decided to move on in the darkness behind the camp towards the vehicles and the administration block. Eventually we passed the armouries and arrived at the point opposite the thatched building. Behind it was a radio mast, three civilian pickup trucks, one Russian-made seven tonne lorry with a wheel missing and two double barrelled anti-aircraft guns. From where we were, they looked like early Soviet ZPU-2 towed units. These were old weapons but extremely effective none the less and their very existence was a crucial piece of intelligence. Hannes and I crouched in the darkness whilst I wrote down what we had seen. Satisfied we had seen enough we cut back on our path towards the armouries or storerooms we had passed earlier. There were three small buildings placed in a row with brick walls and corrugated iron roofs. It was clear their contents were of vital importance. The doors to these buildings were to the front facing the camp but they each had small ventilation spaces to the rear. Hannes and I crouched in the darkness contemplating how best to inspect them. After a few minutes of studying them we decided that Hannes would attempt to look in through the ventilation space to the rear of each building while I would circle around the front to do the same. This would be by far the most dangerous part of our mission and we would be exposed to the full glare of the lights. We decided that we would start with the building closest to the administration block, take a quick look and retreat to the cover of darkness. We would then repeat this for the final two buildings and our mission would be complete. We would be over the hill and on our way back to the border well before sunrise.
“Are you ready?” I whispered.
“Ya, let's go,” he replied.
I watched as he made his way across the dusty soil quickly and silently to the shadows of the corrugated roof at the rear of the first building. There was no sound or movement and soon I heard the signal I had been waiting for. The whistle of the Nightjar sounded softly from the back of the building. It was time to move. I quickly made the crossing to the left of the building and stood flat against the wall in the shadow of the roof. All around was brightly lit although quiet and deserted. I moved slowly in this position towards the front pausing to poke my head around the corner to check for trouble. Seeing nothing I made the turn and looked to my right at the front of the building. There were no windows, only two large steel doors that were bolted shut with heavy padlocks. Above these were two small ventilation holes similar to the ones at the rear.
There was no way I would be able to look into them, but I was certain that Hannes would already have done so given his height. Keeping my back to the wall and scanning the area in front of me I made my way to the corner of the building and around to where Hannes stood in the darkness. We gave each other the all clear signal and scurried back to the cover of darkness at the back of the camp.
“Did you get a look in?” I whispered.
“I did. Standard RPGs, 60 MM mortars, assault rifles and ammo.”
We moved to our left in line with the second building and repeated the process. The results were the same. It was when we aligned ourselves with the third building and paused to assess the situation that I felt the first twinge of unease. I have no idea what brought it on. Perhaps it was an instinctive premonition of trouble ahead but as I watched Hannes cross to the rear of the last building there was a cold sliding feeling in my stomach. Regardless, upon hearing the soothing whistle of the Nightjar I crossed the sandy soil to the left-hand side of the building and stood with my back to the wall. All was clear around me but still there was the fear that something was not quite right. Silently I shuffled to my right towards the front corner of the building. It was as I turned to face the front of the building that I saw the empty five litre bottle lying near the steel doors. Crouched and hidden in the shadows of the doorway was the figure of a man. Upon seeing me he leapt to his feet and raised his AK47.
“Ndiani?” he said loudly. Shona for 'Who is there?'
A thousand thoughts shot through my mind as I silently turned back around the corner. I knew then what it was that had been bothering me. The missing sentry from the far corner of the camp. It was surely him.
“Ndiani?” he shouted this time.
My rifle was of no use to me. Although my face was blacked out, he was clearly alarmed and would certainly come round the corner at any moment. I drew my knife as I waited.
“Enoch Walaza,” I said trying to buy time.
Sweat formed on my face as I contemplated my next move. I knew Hannes would have heard this outburst and would be taking action as well.
I slung my rifle behind my back, hid the knife up my sleeve and turned around the corner once again. The man stood there clearly alarmed, his AK47 at the ready.
“Ndino reva aiwa isva,” I said quietly with my hands raised. 'I mean no harm.'
He looked at me with wide conf
used eyes. As I spoke, I saw the mountainous figure of Hannes come up silently behind the man. His left arm flashed around the man's chest while his right hand, like a huge bunch of bananas, completely covered his face. There was a brief, muffled grunt before I heard his neck break. It sounded just like the branch of a tree snapping. The man's body shook violently in Hannes' grip and his right hand tightened on the trigger of his weapon as he died. Three shots rang out in quick succession before his arm slackened. The bullets ricocheted off the wall of the building sending sharp chips of brick and mortar into my face. The sound of the shots split the night leaving my ears ringing. I lurched forward to catch the weapon before it fell. Instinctively we moved back towards the darkness with Hannes carrying the dead man like a rag doll. There was no reason or time to talk. We needed to get away and do so immediately. When we arrived in the cover of the darkness behind the camp, I gave the signal for Hannes to follow me back along the route we had taken. With the man's body slung over Hannes' shoulder in a fireman's lift we started. Already there were sounds of alarm and shouting. The slumbering camp was coming alive quickly. I wiped the blood from my right eye as we rounded the corner of the parade ground in the darkness. To our right all was confusion, mainly centred in front of the administration building. A group of around one hundred men in various stages of undress had gathered and loud angry orders were being barked out by a drunken senior officer. I stopped when I heard a dull thud and a gasp from behind me. Hannes had tripped on a rock and both him and the dead man had taken a tumble. We crouched in the darkness sweating and panting heavily. Ahead of us, to the right, the corner guard had woken from his slumber and was racing towards the administration block rifle in hand. Seeing a gap ahead we quickly got to our feet and proceeded cautiously in the moonlight. The edge of the camp and the base of the hill were forty metres away from us. There was no doubt Hannes could easily carry the man's body up and over the hill where it would not be discovered for some time. By then we would be far away through the mine field, approaching our rendezvous in the safety of the mountains. It was as we approached the corner of the camp that the siren sounded. The noise from the camp became a cacophony of confusion with lights and torches appearing everywhere. I paused and glanced at Hannes who stood panting behind me. We had run out of time. Soon the entire camp and surrounds would be swarming with rabid drunken insurgents. There would be trackers with spotlights sent out immediately and I knew we would stand little chance of escape. I pointed towards the line of thatched wall structures at the front of the camp.
“The latrines, Hannes. Let's go”
Staying in the darkness we moved at an angle that would prevent us from being seen by the crowd at the centre of the camp. We arrived at the third structure from the end. Crouching down I quickly parted the grass wall and crawled inside. The moonlight shone through the open top revealing a floor of wooden poles set across a three-metre trench. Positioned at a height of half a metre and running the length of the latrine was a single wooden pole that would act as a seat for the user. The structure would accommodate six people at a time. I turned back to the hole I had made in the grass wall. Hannes had laid the dead man on the ground with his head and shoulders facing me. I pulled the body through and dropped it into the trench behind the pole. It landed in the liquid muck below with a soft slapping sound. The man with the megaphone started issuing frantic orders as Hannes shifted his colossal frame through the hole I had made. Once he was through, I quickly closed the hole by pulling the grass back into place. By then there were thudding footfalls and confused shouting all around us. Silently I glanced at Hannes, his eyes were wide and alarmed. I pointed to the trench behind the pole and mouthed the words.
“Down, now!”
Carefully, using the raised pole, we lowered ourselves down into the stinking darkness. The semi liquid sludge was physically hot and came up to our waists. There was sufficient light from the opening behind the pole to see the body of the dead man was still not fully submerged. I pulled it through the darkness towards the corner of the trench under the pole floor. Above us all around were the sounds of people running and shouting. After a while my eyes became accustomed to the darkness as thin slivers of moonlight shone between the poles above. The trench was three metres long and two metres wide. The wooden poles above us stretched one and a half metres until they ended being supported from underneath by a cross beam. Hannes and I stood in the far-right corner under the poles. Above the putrid liquid waste were rough earth walls. Already the stinking liquid had permeated our boots and clothing completely. Knowing we would be there for some time, I decided I needed to improve our situation. Slowly I waded across to the far side of the trench and during a lull in the activity around, I removed one of the poles from the rough floor above. When I returned to where Hannes stood, I removed my knife and began digging into the earth walls above the sludge in an effort to create a ledge on which to sit.
The panic and chaos above continued as I worked but my efforts had a calming effect on me. Half an hour later I managed to slot the pole into place and Hannes and I raised ourselves on to it. Still our legs dangled in the fetid liquid below. In the dim light I turned to look at Hannes. His eyes were wide and he constantly looked at the poles above. I turned my gaze and saw the face of the dead man lying below me.
His body was submerged but his face stared upwards, eyes and mouth open. A look of frozen terror on his face. I removed his rifle from my shoulder and placed it on top of where his shoulders were submerged. With my right foot I slowly pushed him down and his face disappeared beneath the stinking dark liquid with a soft bubbling sound.
The shouting and searching abated around 5.00am although there were still the sounds of people moving around above. As the daylight started to filter through so did the flies. They came in great swarms and settled on every surface above the steaming liquid. Hannes and I sat with our eyes closed leaning against the earth walls of the latrine. We blocked one ear with one hand while cupping our noses and mouths with the other. The buzzing sound was deafening and the insects crawled on every surface of exposed skin. At 6.00am a siren sounded near the administration building and we heard the camp come alive. The man with the mega phone began barking orders and soon after our little hideaway had its first visitors. The home brewed beer had had a common and terrible side effect on the men. Everyone who had drunk it woke up with a severe case of explosive diarrhoea. The men rushed in groups of five into the latrine above us and groaned as they vacated their cramping bowels not half a metre from where we sat. We were literally in a shower of shit. Thankfully we remained undiscovered where we sat as both Hannes and I knew that if we were to be found, the consequences would be far more appalling.
The heat started to come in waves along with more flies and the occasional rat at around 9.00 am. The men in the camp above were being put through a gruelling training day of marching and singing. They were being punished by their superiors for the previous night’s excesses and for the missing sentry who lay submerged with his gun beneath us. Every few minutes an exhausted man would burst into the latrine above and either vomit, defecate, or both. It was at around midday that I saw the first cracks appear in Johannes Kriel. As I sat with my eyes closed, I started feeling the pole on which we sat begin to shake. I turned, to see him staring down at the stinking pool of liquid below. The dead man's upper body had risen and his grotesque, shit covered face was looking up at us. Hannes stared at the spectacle with wide eyes and his entire body shook violently. I gripped his arm firmly.
“Hannes!” I whispered.
There was no response. With my right foot I gently pushed the body down, so it was once again submerged.
“Hannes!” I growled between clenched teeth.
He turned to face me with wide unseeing eyes.
“Think of the tune Hannes,” I said “The song you always hum to yourself. Close your eyes and think of the song!”
He nodded back at me jerkily and closed his eyes. He began to nod his head and hum
to himself quietly. After a few minutes the shaking subsided and Johannes Kriel was calm again. It was clear the abject horror of our situation was too much for him and he had been on the brink of a nervous breakdown. I couldn't blame him either. I let out a sigh of relief, closed my eyes and tried to remain focused on my goal of leaving that hell hole.
The relentless marching and singing continued throughout the day. Although I had become accustomed to the stench, I preferred to keep my eyes closed to my surroundings. In my mind I wished myself away to a happier place and time from my youth. Occasionally I would glance at Hannes who by then appeared to be in some kind of trance with his song. I was under no illusions that we were still in an extremely dangerous position and the risk of us being discovered was a very real possibility. The drill on the parade ground above ended at 4.00 pm and the great swarms of maddening insects began to dissipate gradually. I nudged Hannes who turned to look at me calmly.
“Two o'clock we leave,” I whispered.
He nodded his approval and gave me the thumbs up sign before returning to his trance like state. In the fading light I got off my seat and waded to the far side of the trench to retrieve another thin pole. I used this to wedge the dead man's body beneath the surface of liquid to prevent him being found for a good while. After doing this I returned to my seat, closed my eyes and waited. The camp fell silent at around 10.00 pm that night. The only visitor being the occasional rat. The temptation to bolt and run was overwhelming, but I was acutely aware that a sentry would be in position not fifty metres from where we sat.
At 1.45 am I opened my eyes to assess the situation. The moonlight shone in through the rear of the latrine and all around was dead silent. I knew we were about to embark on the single most dangerous part of our mission. I felt a bizarre reluctance to leave our safe little cocoon of excrement. Putting that firmly out of my mind I nudged Hannes gently.
The Jason Green series Box Set Page 42
