Somewhere Near Sollum, the Western Desert

British Crusader tanks in North Africa
Imperial War Museum

Sergeant Theodore O'Connell wasn't entirely happy with their new tank, a Crusader Mark II (officially "Tank, Cruiser Mk VI, Crusader). He had hoped for one of the Mark IIIs with their 6-pounder guns, even though it would have meant losing one of his crewmen.

As it was though, the Mark II was slightly up-armored from the older Mark Is. All in all though, a bigger gun, with high explosive rounds available, would have been nice.

The new crewman, to replace Herbie Walsh - killed in action on Crete, was an Irishman, leaving McTavish as still the only non-Irishman in the crew. Private Ian Sullivan was a small fellow, very wiry and rugged though. having spent time as a miner in South Africa before the war. He had a shock of red hair and the most wicked sense of humor. He seemed a good lad.

Their regiment, 3rd Royal Tanks, had been badly used in the Greek campaign so was now undergoing a period of re-organization. To give some of the new men battle experience, elements of the regiment, including O'Connell and his men, had been moved up to take part in an attack meant to relieve the men surrounded in Tobruk. They would be temporarily attached to the 2nd Royal Tanks in the 7th Armoured Brigade.

At the moment they were in reserve just short of the border with Libya. All of the men were nervous, the African desert was hot, without appreciable landmarks away from the coast, and the flies were a constant pain. One couldn't eat without being covered in "the wee bastards" as McTavish put it.

The rumors of the forces arrayed against them also were troubling. The German Afrika Korps had a reputation for toughness and a tactical savvy which seemed to overwhelm some men before they even had faced them.

The Italians had been nearly driven out of Libya altogether after their weak attempt to invade Egypt. All seemed well in hand until this fellow Rommel burst out of his defenses near El Agheila and drove the British all the way back to Sollum. At least the British had managed to hold on to Tobruk, the only really viable port along the coast between Alexandria and El Agheila.

Now they waited for the order to attack.

Deutsches Afrika Korps PzKw II
(Source)

Oberfeldwebel Weber asked Hoffmeister if he had any questions.

"None Kurt. We let the English roll up to our anti-tank screen, once they start maneuvering, and dying, we move out and sweep round their flank. Seems straightforward."

"Sehr gut, get your boys in position, I want you out on the far right flank, keep an eye out there. It looks like empty desert but the Tommies love to run their patrol cars out there and then get in behind us. Plays havoc with the supply boys. So if you want to keep getting paid, protect the rear."

As Hoffmeister walked back to Panzer 413, he rolled the sleeves down on his shirt. It was beastly hot out and he'd already gotten bit by the hot skin of 413. Best to grab the parts not directly in the sun, though that was damned near impossible most days.

"Uffz! Are we ready to strike and bring down the mighty British Empire today?" Horst Krebs called down from where he was standing in the commander's cupola, keeping an eye on the surrounding terrain.

"Not yet, we're to stand fast and let them come to us. After the Paks¹ have worked them over, we roll up and kill the survivors. At least that's the plan!"

"Ah, let them come, we'll send them home in pine boxes!" Ulrich Neuhäuser shouted as he climbed up on to the hull before sliding into his seat behind the bow gun.

"Bloodthirsty today lad?" Hoffmeister asked him.

"Did I say something wrong Uffz?"

Lutz Schumacher, their new replacement, answered before Hoffmeister could. "Not much to put in a box after a Panzer burns, lad. Theirs, ours. doesn't matter. They scrape you off the inside of the hull, or turret, then put you in a shoebox and bury you next to where you died."

"My aren't you the optimist?" Krebs said as he lowered himself into his driver's seat.

"Enough chatter lads, mount up, leave your hatches open for now. When we start rolling, we'll button up, no sense baking in the meantime."

The men got into their positions, for now Willi Hoffmeister stood on the turret and watched with his field glasses. As he looked out towards where the Great Sand Sea began, the heat made everything in the distance shimmer. He wondered if he'd even be able to make out a scout car driving past with that in the background.

As he turned to look to his front, he could see dust plumes in the distance, the Tommies were moving. That's when it struck him, he'd see the dust plumes from the scout cars, if not the cars themselves.

"Mein Gott, it's hot out here." Hoffmeister grumbled.

"Come sit with us Uffz, at least you're in the open air. It's like a f**king oven in here." Horst Krebs called up from inside the turret.

"Ja, ja, I know Horst, I know. But at least you're in the shade!"

Hoffmeister heard Schumacher grumbling, "Shade my arse. I could bake bread in here!"

"Settle down boys, the Tommies are moving up, I trust we'll be rolling soon. Patience, the Wüstenfuchs² knows his business." Then to himself Hoffmeister muttered, "I hope."

¹ Paks - Slang for the anti-tank men, Pak is the abbreviation for Panzerabwehrkanone - anti-tank gun.

² Desert Fox (German) one of Rommel's nicknames.