Lion, Tiger, Bear | 79 since General Rommel had vehemently argued against them. His popularity in the German press, a gift from Goebbels, gave Rommel some independence from the stiff necked general staff in Berlin, and Himmlers fanatical and genocidal SS. Agreed. Lets keep moving. As they meandered through the streets with Bea atop the jackass with a shawl, Gwafa and Takuta drew little notice from their dark complexions wrapped behind a thick cloth turban that Gwafa knew how to tie well and tight. Hiding in plain sight, a tactic that had always worked well for her, Bea kept her face behind a black veil, her lily-white hands well hidden, head low. A few Germans searched houses for contraband, others haggled hard via their Arab guides in the souk for sugar, salt, tomatoes, and spices very much appreciated for use with their bland Afrika Korps rations. Most troops were eating local grapes for newsreel cameras and bathing in the natural Cleopatra Springs nearby, a water-fouling practice frowned upon by the locals. Hordes of children harassed the smiling soldiers for Lire coins and Iron Ration boiled sweets under the colorful shawls, umbrellas, and carpets that ceilinged the spice-perfumed ancient street. A German eight-wheeled armored car drove past, the troops atop howling and waving at the local women. Bea understood some of the banter; many Germans were eager to visit the nearby Temple of Amun, a local curiosity. Its a damn holidaymakers paradise here, she whispered in French, holding on to the donkeys neck and rubbing his ears. Gwafa replied: Oui, madame, cest tout. A travesty. What a bleedin strange war,whispered Takuta, overwhelmed by it all, wishing for the sea. Weaving their way through the towns endless maze of mud brick buildings, built one on top of another, some with elegant white domes, they rounded a corner with a small bundle of locals. At the humble mosques open square, the troops dismounted the armored car and scurried up to occupy the tall minaret and other high-ground spots. German soldiers in their pith helmets screamed at the locals to back off, aggressively pushing people out of the way with their Mausers held lengthwise so they could permanently block off a good portion of the palmed courtyard and public fountain with ropes and sidecar motorbikes armed with the new Singing SawMG-42 machineguns. A long, heavy and fearsome barrel pointed directly at Bea, her eyes wide. A young soldier then wrapped the bulky muzzle brake in a canvas bag and smiled at her, and another yelled at Gwafa to move back.