Take or Destroy! Read Free Page A

skin still dark with the stain on it. His face was lean and, without the ragged headdress, his straight fair hair fell over his eyes like the broken wing of a yellow bird.
    ‘Hello, George,’ Loftus said. ‘Made it, I see. Brought some good news?’
    ‘Depends which way you look at it, sir.’ Hockold moved to Loftus’s table, and a mug of tea appeared. ‘I’ve just come from Qaba.’
    Loftus studied him carefully over his spectacles. ‘What’s special about Qaba?’ he asked.
    ‘That’s where Rommel’s got his petrol.’
    Loftus gestured. ‘Rommel hasn’t got any petrol. He’s supposed to need thirty thousand tons and, before he can move again, another thirty-five. He’s supposed to be in Berlin, in fact, begging on his bended knees for it.
    ‘I think it’s different now. There are three petrol ships in Qaba. They came in forty-eight hours ago.’
    Loftus’s eyebrows rose. ‘The RAF reported nothing,’ he said.
    ‘They rigged up camouflage. They had it up within a matter of hours.’
    ‘How much petrol is there?’
    ‘I worked it out at thirty thousand tons - at least.’
    Loftus whistled. ‘That would make a hell of a difference to how he fights.’
    ‘Are we expecting an attack?’
    ‘We’re not. He is. The new commander’s all set to go. Chap called Montgomery. Know him?’
    ‘Instructor at Camberley when I was there.’
    ‘Well, I hope he puts the wind up ‘em. For my money he’s all right. He says he’s going to knock Rommel for six clean out of Africa.’
    Hockold gave a little smile. ‘It might be harder than he thinks now,’ he pointed out. ‘There’s also a ship loaded with ammunition, a refuelling post in the town where there are two sheds of spare parts, and a dump a mile inland from the harbour. Fortunately for us, their administrative services are unstable and they have no lighters, tugs or lorries.’
    Loftus sighed. ‘We’d better let ‘em know at AHQ,’ he said. ‘They’ll get an RAF bang laid on, I suppose.’
    ‘Not this time. There’s a prisoner of war cage right alongside the harbour.’
    Loftus stared at Hockold for a long moment. ‘Got any ideas?’
    ‘I was thinking of a raid.’
    ‘Not a hope. Monty’s dead against sideshows. The navy set one up against Benghazi and Tobruk in September. It was a dead loss.’
    ‘There’s no minefield,’ Hockold persisted. ‘And I’ve got a chart.’ He placed an envelope on the desk. ‘A few other things too : Numbers. Positions of the ships. Gun emplacements. Three old French 47s and heavy machine guns, but not much else. Flak guns are all inland.’
    Loftus paused; then he smiled and pushed his papers away. ‘You make out a good case,’ he admitted. ‘Perhaps we should let the bigwigs decide.’
     
    As it happened, even as Hockold prepared to head for Eighth Army headquarters to lay his ideas before the new general in command, the signals that Colonel Hochstatter had made about the arrival of the four supply ships to General Stumme, holding the fort for Rommel at Afrika Korps headquarters, were just starting to bear fruit. Qaba, which was normally used only when Mersa Matruh and Bardia were full, had increased enormously in importance since the British retreat in June. Now the lines of communication went all the way back to Tripoli, and as it suddenly occurred to someone that they were incredibly vulnerable, a message was directed to Hochstatter that the four ships were to be unloaded at once.
    Captain Hrabak, the supply officer, permitted himself a cynical smile. ‘What with?’ he asked. ‘We’re short of lorries.’
    ‘Lighters then,’ Hochstatter suggested. ‘Across to the concrete below the POW compound.’ He turned to the signals officer. ‘Ask for lighters, Tarnow.’
    ‘Where from?’ Tarnow demanded. He was popularly supposed to be a member of the Feldsicherheitspolizei or the Liebstandarte Adolf Hitler Waffen S.S. and was surly, arrogant and indifferent in manner, which gave the stories a