Ruffy nodded and buttoned the playing cards into his top pocket while he
selected the gendarmes to accompany them; then he asked Bruce, "We might
need some oil; what you think, boss?" Bruce hesitated; they had
only two cases of whisky left of the dozen they had looted in August.
The purchasing power of a bottle of genuine Scotch was enormous and
Bruce was loath to use them except in extraordinary circumstances. But
now he realized that his chances of getting the supplies he needed were
remote, unless he took along a substantial bribe for the quartermaster.
"Okay, Ruffy. Bring a case." Ruffy came up out of the chair and clapped
his steel helmet on his head. The chin straps hung down on each side of
his round black face.
A "A full case?" He grinned at Bruce. "You want to buy a battleship?"
"Almost," agreed Bruce; "go and get it." Ruffy disappeared into the back
area of the house and returned almost immediately with a case of Grant's
Stand awl"
fast under one arm and half a dozen bottles of Simba beer held by their
necks between the fingers of his other hand.
"We might get thirsty," he explained.
The gendarmes climbed back into the back of the truck with a clatter of
weapons and shouted cheerful abuse at their fellows on the
verandah. Bruce, Mike and Ruffy crowded into the cab and Ruffy set the
whisky on the floor and placed two large booted feet upon it.
"What's this all about, boss?" he asked as Bruce trundled the truck down
the drive and turned into the Avenue I'Etoile. Bruce told him and when
he had finished Ruffy grunted noncommittally and opened a bottle of beer
with his big white chisel-blade teeth; the gas hissed softly and a
little froth ran down the bottle and dripped onto his lap.
"My boys aren't going to like it," he commented as he offered the open
bottle to Mike Haig. Mike shook his head and Ruffy passed the bottle to
Bruce.
Ruffy opened a bottle for himself and spoke again. "They going to hate
it like hell." He shook his head. "And there'll be even bigger trouble
when we get to Port Reprieve and pick up the diamonds." Bruce glanced
sideways at him, startled. "What diamonds?"
"From the dredgers," said Ruffy. "You don't think they're sending us all
that way just to bring in these other guys.
They're worried about the diamonds, that's for sure!" Suddenly, for
Bruce, much which had puzzled him was explained. A half-forgotten
conversation that he had held earlier in the year with an engineer from
Union Mine jumped back into his memory. They had discussed the three
diamond dredgers that worked the gravel from the bed of the Lufira
swamps. The boats were based on Port Reprieve and clearly they would
have returned there at the beginning of the emergency; they must still
be there with three or four months" recovery of diamonds on board.
Something like half a million sterling in uncut stones. That was the
reason why the Katangese Government placed such priority on this
expedition, the reason why such a powerful force was being used, the
reason why no approaches had been made to the U.N. authorities to
conduct the rescue.
Bruce smiled sardonically as he remembered the human itarian arguments
that had been given to him by the Minister of the Interior.
"It is our duty, Captain Curry. We cannot leave these people to the
notsotender mercy of the tribesmen. It is out duty as civilized human
beings." There were others cut off in remote mission stations and
government outposts throughout southern Kasai and Katanga; nothing had
been heard of them for months, but their welfare was secondary to that
of the settlement at Port.
Reprieve.
Bruce lifted the bottle to his lips again, steering with one hand and
squinting ahead through the windscreen as he drank. All right, we'll
fetch them in and afterwards an ammunition box will be loaded on to a
chartered aircraft, and later still there will be another deposit to a
numbered account in Zurich. Why should I worry? They're paying me for
it.
"I don't think we should mention the diamonds to my boys." Ruffy spoke
sadly. "I don't think it would be a good idea at all." Bruce slowed the
truck as they ran into the industrial area beyond the railway line. He
watched the buildings as they passed, until he recognized the one he
wanted and swung off the road to stop in front of the gate. He blew a
blast on the hooter and a gendarme came out and inspected his pass
minutely. Satisfied, he shouted out to someone beyond the gate and it
swung open. Bruce drove the truck through into the yard and switched off
the engine.
There were half a dozen other trucks parked in the yard, all emblazoned
with the Katangese shield and surrounded by gendarmes in uniforms patchy
with sweat. A white lieutenant leaned from the cab of one of the trucks
and shouted.
"Ciao, Bruce!"
"How things, Sergio?" Bruce answered him.
"Crazy! Crazy!" Bruce smiled. For the Italian everything was crazy.
Bruce remembered that in July, during the fighting at the road bridge,
he had bent him over the bonnet of a Land Rover and with a bayonet dug a
piece of schrapnel out of his hairy buttocks - that had also been crazy.
"See you around," Bruce dismissed him and led Mike and Ruffy across the
yard, to the warehouse. There was a sign on the large double doors Dp&
Ordinance - Aim& du Katanga and beyond them at a desk in a glass cubicle
sat a major with a pair of Gandhi-type steel-rimmed spectacles perched
on a face like that of a jovial black toad. He looked up at Bruce.
"Non," he said with finality. "Non, non." Bruce produced his requisition
form and laid it before him. The major brushed it aside
contemptuously.
"We have not got these items, we are destitute. I cannot do it.
No! I cannot do it. There are priorities. There are circumstances to
consider. No, I am sorry." He snatched a sheaf of papers from the side
of his desk and turned his whole attention to them, ignoring Bruce.
"This requisition is signed by Monsieur le President," Bruce pointed out
mildly, and the major laid down his papers and came round from behind
the desk. He stood close to Bruce with the top of his head on a level
with Bruce's chin.
"Had it been signed by the Almighty himself, it would be of no use. I am
sorry, I am truly sorry." Bruce lifted his eyes and for a second allowed
them to wander over the mountains of stores which packed the interior of
the warehouse. From where he stood he could identify
at least twenty items that he needed. The major noticed the gesture and
his French became so excited that Bruce could only make out the repeated
use of the word
"Non'. He glanced significantly at Ruffy and the sergeant major stepped
forward and placed an arm soothingly about the major's shoulders; then
very gently he led him, still protesting, out into the yard and across
to the truck. He opened the door of the cab and the major saw the case
of whisky.
A few minutes later, after Ruffy had prised open the lid with his
bayonet and allowed the major to inspect the seals on the caps, they
returned to the office with Ruffy carrying the case.
"Captain," said the major as he picked up the requisition from the desk.
"I see now that I was mistaken. This is indeed signed by
Monsieur le President. It is my duty to afford you the most urgent
priority." Bruce murmured his thanks and the major beamed at him. "I
will give you men to help you."
"You are too kind. It would disrupt your routine. I have my own men."
Excellent," agreed the major and waved a podgy hand around the
warehouse. "Take what you need." Again Bruce glanced at his wristwatch.
It was still twenty minutes before the curfew ended at 06.00 hours.
Until then he must fret away the time watching Wally Hendry finishing
his breakfast. This was a spectacle without much appeal, for Hendry was
a methodical but untidy eater.
"Why don't you keep your mouth closed?" snapped Bruce irritably, unable
to stand it any longer.
"Do I ask you your business?" Hendry looked up from his plate.
His jowls were covered with a ginger stubble of beard, and his eyes were
inflamed and puffy from the previous evening's debauchery. Bruce looked
away from him and checked his watch again.
The suicidal temptation to ignore the curfew and set off immediately for
the railway station was very strong. It required an effort to resist it.
The least he could expect if he followed that course was an arrest by
one of the patrols and a delay of twelve hours while he cleared himself,
the worst thing would be a shooting incident.
He poured himself another cup of coffee and sipped it slowly.
Impatience has always been one of my weaknesses, he reflected; nearly
every mistake I have ever made stems from that cause. But I have
improved a little over the years. - at twenty I wanted to live my whole
life in a week. Now I'll settle for a year.
He finished his coffee and checked the time again. Five minutes
before six, he could risk it now. It would take almost that long to get
out to the truck.
"If you are ready, gentlemen." He pushed back his chair and picked up
his pack, slung it over his shoulder and led the way out.
Ruffy was waiting for them, sitting on a pile of stones in one of the
corrugated iron goods sheds. His men squatted round a dozen small fires
on the concrete floor cooking breakfast.
"Where's the train?"
"That's a good question, boss," Ruffy congratulated him, and Bruce
groaned.
"It should have been here long ago," Bruce protested, and Ruffy
shrugged.
"Should have been is a lot different from is."
"Goddamnit! We've still got to load up. We'll be lucky if we get away
before noon," snapped Bruce. "I'll go up to the station master." I
"You'd better take him a present, boss. We've still got a case left."
"No, hell!"
Bruce growled. "Come with me, Mike." With Mike beside him they crossed
the tracks to the main platform and clambered up on to it. At the far
end a group of railway officials stood chatting and Bruce fell upon them
furiously.
Two hours later Bruce stood beside the coloured engine driver on the
footplate and they puffed slowly down towards the goods yard.
The driver was a roly-poly little man with a skin too dark for mere
sunburn and a set of teeth with bright red plastic gums.
"Monsieur, you do not wish to proceed to Port Reprieve?" he asked
anxiously.
"Yes."
"There is no way of telling the condition of the permanent way. No
traffic has used it these last four months."
"I know. You'll have to proceed with caution."
"There is a United Nations barrier across the lines near the old
aerodrome, protested the man.
"We have a pass." Bruce smiled to soothe him; his bad temper was abating
now that he had his transport. "Stop next to the first shed."
With a hiss of steam brakes the train pulled up beside the concrete
platform and Bruce jumped down.
"All right, Ruffy," he shouted. "Let's get cracking." Bruce had placed
the three steel-sided open trucks in the van, for they were the easiest
to defend. From behind the breast-high sides the Bren guns could sweep
ahead and on both flanks. Then followed the two passenger coaches, to be
used as store rooms and officer's quarters; also for accommodation of
the refugees on the return journey.
A Finally, the locomotive in the rear, where it would be least
vulnerable and would not spew smoke and soot back over the train.
The stores were loaded into four of the compartments, the windows
shuttered and the doors locked. Then Bruce set about laying out his
defences. In a low circle of sandbags on the roof of the leading coach
he sited one of the Brens and made his own post. From here he could look
down over the open trucks, back at the locomotive, and also command an
excellent view of the surrounding country.
The other Brens he placed in the leading truck and put Hendry in command
there. He had obtained from the major at Ordinance three of the new
walkie-talkie sets; one he gave to the engine driver, another to Hendry
up front, and the third he retained in his emplacement; and his system
of communication was satisfactory.
It was almost twelve o'clock before these preparations were complete and
Bruce turned to Ruffy who sat on the sandbags beside him.
"All set?"
"All set, boss."
"How many missing?" Bruce had learned from experience never to expect
his entire command to be in any one place at any one time.
"Eight, boss."
"That's three more than yesterday; leaves us only fifty-two men. Do you
think they've taken off into the bush also?" Five of his men had
deserted with their weapons on the day of the ceasefire.
Obviously they had gone out into the bush to join one of the bands of
shufta that were already playing havoc along the main roads: ambushing
all unprotected traffic, beating up lucky travellers and murdering those
less fortunate, raping when they had the opportunity, and generally
enjoying themselves.
"No, boss. I don't think so, those three are good boys.
They'll be down in the cite indigne having themselves some fun; guess
they just forgot the time." Ruffy shook his head. "Take us about half an
hour to find them; all we do is go down and visit all the knock-shops.
You want to try?"
"No, we haven't time to mess around if we are going to make Msapa
junction before dark. We'll pick them up again when we get back." Was
there ever an army since the Boer War that treated desertion so lightly,
Bruce wondered.
He turned to the radio set beside him and depressed the transmit button.
"Driver."
"Oui, monsieur."
"Proceed - very slowly until we approach the United Nations barrier.
Stop well this side of it."
"Oui, monsieur." They rolled out of the goods yard, clicking over the
points; leaving the industrial quarter on their right with the
Katangese guard posts on the Avenue du Cmieti&e intersection; out
through the suburbs until ahead of them Bruce saw the U.N. positions and
he felt the first stirring of anxiety. The pass he carried in the breast
pocket of his jacket was signed by General Rhee Singh, but before in
this war the orders of an Indian general had not been passed by a
Sudanese captain to an Irish sergeant. The reception that awaited them