126 | John W. Warner IV lieutenant talked of peacetime and the Amalfi Coast during the winter season. An Italian sergeant perked up and stood. In the distance they could hear machinegun fire and the faint whining of gearsnot tanks, but heavy trucks. Bea turned to Gwafa. Hear that? I wonder whos In a flash, a tan lorry burst through a wall, gunning down half the Italians with a Lewis Gun as it flew past, nearly hitting them. Bea and Gwafa hit the ground hard while the Italians scattered. A second truck, a desert tan Chevrolet with rugged tires, heavily loaded with jerrycans, thick tow ropes, crates, rucksacks, and armed with a .50 caliber Browning machinegun and two .303 caliber Lewis Guns followed the first, then slowed; they shot all the remaining Italians point-blank, the mess table running red with wine and blood. The first truck, three hundred meters distance and out of view, blew up in a fireball when the hidden Tiger 103 blocked its path, the lorrys many fuel jerrycans igniting all the debris and extra ammo. All five British irregulars were dead in an instant. You bleedin idiots! Thats a Tiger tank up thereyoull be cut to ribbons in a tick! yelled Bea, prone, dust in her mouth, her spotted napkin still tucked. Were Allies, dont shoot! A what tank? Allies, eh? Get in then! ordered an English officer with goggles and a Tuareg-style blue scarf wrapped tightly around his head. The Moor cant be German, thats for sure. Bea and Gwafa loaded Takuta on board and climbed in. A third Long Range Desert Group lorry gave dense return fire up the road, both machinegun and weak anti tank grenades, which did precious little against a charging Mark II Panzer; the little pig had returned. They drove off briskly with a heavy whine from the notoriously whiny gearbox; Bea tended to Takutas wounds as best she could, but he had passed out completely. Steady on the big Browning, a corporal gingerly tossed her a med kit. Who the hell are you? demanded the captain, reading a map in the wind and not looking up, one hand on the trigger of his Lewis. The truck bounced hard, nearly tossing everyone overboard. Section Officer Thruxton. Womens Auxiliary, she yelled. Sergeant-chef GwaEa, Free French. Our wounded man is a New Zealander. As they rounded a corner near the salt lake, the crew gave withering fire