8 July 21 Gwafa had fallen asleep, his head onTakutas legs. One eye opened. Bea stood before them; she checked her watch, 5:03. Its party time any of time, chaps. Lets brace ourselves to our duty. Bathed by the dawns emerging light, Takuta led a gurgling Udad by the reigns, passing the old crumbling and wind-eroded fortress made of mud brick and salt chunks, the older south end of town partially deserted. Bea rode atop a colorful, embroidered saddle that draped low on Udad; Gwafa covered their rear with eyes of discretion. Drink some water, chaps. No dehydration, she whispered through her veil, with only a narrow slit for her eyes to see out. Eat a handful of dates and fill your pockets. In the middle of town, they wound their way through the crooked alleyways and dusty streets among locals and two other camels carrying heavy loads of goods and fresh-smelling sacks of coffee beans. All seemed calm, and they blended in perfectly. Long shadows cast a beautiful but ominous pall, the nights cold whisked away by warm gusted spirits of breeze. Wide, the sparsely-populated town stretched for a mile in all directions. Troops were thinly distributed. Near the souk, several platoons of bearded Germans ate their melon, olive oil bread, tinned British corned beef and date breakfast on benches by their camouflaged trucks andnetted armored cars safely parked under wide palms; a few complained of sand and dust in their teeth, others the olive oil taste. White cross-painted jerrycans of water lay neatly stacked near shiny mess tins of beans and pork and cabbage that would be their common-issue mitiagessen in a few hours, the mobile kitchen boiler burning dried camel dung and whisking up steam, its blackened smokestack painted with the nickname Kame!Kanone. Shaking their wool sweaters and jumpers of sand and talcum powder-fine dust, enlisted Landsers read letters from home, smoked cigarettes and pipes, laughed, and played