Prose

Ryno watches the prisoners while they are digging two graves in the graveyard and he is glad to see the sunburned South-African, throwing one spade after the other from the open grave
 
By noon both graves have been dug and the prisoners are marched back to the camp, where they stand in a row at the prison to get some food.

The heat is merciless and Ryno becomes thirsty and suddenly he is also hungry and somewhat light-headed.  The headache is back again and he feels feverish.  Oh, no.  I cannot afford to get flue at this time, he thinks and uses the tin opener to cut two holes into the top of the tin of mixed vegetables.

The lukewarm water of the tin of mixed vegetables to him tastes really great and he draws his cap deep over his face, to keep the sun from burning his nose to strips, before he carefully opens the whole tin.

He feels tired and must have nodded off to sleep, as the sound of two helicopters returning from the west wakes him so suddenly that he almost falls out of the tree.

A while later Ryno notices how the prisoners are taken to the excavation next to the prison, where they start working while they are being watched by four guards who are really bored.

At three o’clock the prisoners stop working and the four guards are relieved by a much larger group of guards.

Ryno quickly notices why more guards are being used when the prisoners are divided in groups of, three’s, two’s and even as single men are accompanied by guards to different aria’s of the camp.

Some of the prisoners are busy gathering firewood, while others are cleaning the lavatories.  Ryno notices two jeeps with wooden coffins and the procession gathered for the funerals, which are on their way to the graveyard and he looses all of his interest in the prisoners.

When the funeral procession stops outside the graveyard Ryno recognizes Dino Mahambo and for a moment wants to put another person with those that are going to be buried.

A sound about fifteen meters from him, draws his attention to the other side of the orange grove and it feels to Ryno if his heart is beating in his throat from excitement.

The South African is hoeing a vegetable garden that Ryno now notices for the first time, while only two guards are watching him.

There are neat rows of carrots, potatoes, onions, tomatoes and pumpkins growing all over the place.   On the other side there are also some lettuce and a strip of maize.

It is soon obvious that both of the guards are bored, when one after a short discussion departs into the direction of the women’s huts and Ryno cannot believe his luck.  Minutes later the other Cuban comes to sit down in the shade of the Msasa tree, while Ryno is praying for him not to look up into the tree.

That the heat is affecting the guard is clear when he starts to snore.  With his senses strained sharp, Ryno climbs down from the tree and lands with the knife from his boot, in his hand.

Before he is able to use the knife, the flat side of a spade hits the Cuban on the side of his head and he slumps down to the ground.  The eyes of the two South Africans meet for a moment and the other guy is smiling at Ryno.

”It is not necessary to kill him.  Let them wonder about how I have escaped,” he remarks.   “It is good to see you.  How did you know about my presence?”  “After you yesterday did kill those soldiers, I have constantly been scouting the trees for your presence,” the prisoner replies.  “I am here to help you escape,” Ryno remarks before he climbs into the tree to get the rest of his equipment.  “What do we do now?  Do we again hide in the trees?”

Everything has happened so quickly that Ryno does not know what to answer.   That they cannot stay in the camp is quite clear.

When is on the ground again he drags the unconscious man in the stretch of maize and strips his uniform quickly from his body.

Suddenly Ryno is aware that he is sweating unnaturally and is feeling somewhat tired.  To become ill now, there is no time for and he forces himself to think about a way of leaving the camp.

”What are you doing now,” the prisoner wants to know from him and Ryno pushes the clothes and boots into his hands.  “Go on.  Put on that uniform,” he commands and when the Cubans stirs, he gives him another karate type blow with a clenched fist, before he removes a piece of rope from his backpack and starts binding his hands and feet together.

”Wait for me here in the cornfield,” he commands and pushes the weapon of the Cuban into the hands of the prisoner.  “Where are you going,” the South African wants to know from him.   I am also going to fetch a Cuban uniform for myself,” Ryno replies while he walks into the direction of the women’s huts.

It is much easier to get the uniform than Ryno had thought.  The first hut into which he peeps is empty and he leaves it quickly.

At the next hut he can hear some sounds and he avoids it.  It is at the third hut where he carefully sneaks in that he finds a Cuban officer and one of the black ladies sleeping nakedly in each other’s arms.   The soldier’s clothes are folded neatly at the door with his boots somewhat nearer to the bed.

It only takes Ryno seconds to undress in the corn field and he sticks some plaster over the Cuban’s mouth, before he pushes his own uniform into his backpack and again slings it over his shoulder.

”How are we going to leave the camp,” the other South African wants to know with some fear from Ryno.   “Easily.  We walk to the vehicle park and drive out of the camp.   Equip his webbing and draw your cap low over your eyes and follow me,” Ryno orders and it takes nerves of steel for the two to walk right through the barracks into the direction of the vehicle park while they are acting as if they should be going there.

There are small groups of soldiers around the barracks and on a open piece of ground between the buildings, a group of a about twenty are playing soccer and Ryno and the South African walks past on the border of the playing field.

In the middle of the aria at the barracks, they walk into a group playing nine men’s Morris. They stand a moment to pretend to watch the game and it is then that a Cuban comes out of one of the bungalows and he starts walking straight up to them.

”This damn place is extremely hot,” he complains in Spanish when he reaches them.  “Yes it’s scorching.  A man needs a nice cold beer,” Ryno answers in Portuguese.

”Have one of you got a cigarette,” the Cuban wants to know when they start to walk away.  Ryno offers him a cigarette and for the first time in his life he is glad that he does not smoke South African cigarettes.

They stop while he lights the cigarette for the Cuban and he offers one to the South African and takes one for himself, to relief the tension.  He notices how the hands of the other South African shake somewhat and how the Cuban looks at his webbing, backpack and weapon.

The backpack, webbing and the Heckler and Koch 417 rifle has betrayed me, Ryno thinks and when he starts considering using the knife in his boot, the Cuban starts talking.

”I see you are walking to the vehicle park?  The commandant really wants to find that sniper, if he is sending special force soldiers out to capture him?  Are you going to use that BRDM armoured car?  I have got the right medicine for you.”  Ryno notices the set of wings on his chest and realizes that he must be one of the pilots of the remaining Hinds.

The Cuban walks off into the direction of one of the bungalows and the South African says in Afrikaans:  “We have got to get out of here before he returns.  He has probably gone to get some reinforcement.”

”If we now move he might make amok and then we will have the whole camp on us.”  “Did you see how he was looking at your equipment” the other South African wants to know as an answer.  “Relax, he’s a pilot.  What does he know about equipment,’ Ryno tries to calm his mate.

The next moment the Cuban is back with two bottles of Cuca beer in his hands.  The two South Africans are both astonished and they thank the Cuban in Portuguese, before they except the beer and walk away quickly into the direction of the vehicle park.

At the vehicle park they find the caretaker sleeping in the guard hut and Ryno helps him to go into a deeper kind of sleep.

The nearest BDRM armoured car is hot like an oven when they get in and close the hatches of the vehicle.   “Do you know how to drive this thing,” Ryno inquires when the other South African climbs into the driver’s seat.

”It should be quite easy,” the other South African remarks and when the engine starts at the first try both of them feel somewhat relieved.
 
They draw away smoothly and within seconds they are out of the vehicle park and on the road Ryno orders:  “Turn right so that we can get to the main road and then drive south along that road until we are out of the camp.”

”But it means that we will have to drive right through the camp and the whole lot of them will know that we are heading south.   Most of the soldiers in the camp had left in a southern direction,” the other man protests.

”Do as you are ordered,” Ryno cuts him short and when they stop at the southern gate, Ryno opens the main hatch on top.

He notices the faces of two sweating black soldiers.   “Open the gate immediately the convoy is already very far and we have got no time to loose to catch up with them,” Ryno orders in Portuguese and when he starts to curse on the guards in the same language it’s just moments before the gate swings open and they drive away unhindered.

”Can you see the other road,” Ryno wants to know through the communication system.  “Yes.  Have I got to turn off into the direction of Techamutete?"
 
”No.  Drive straight on with the road into the direction of Caiundo," Ryno orders before he again opens the hatch of the armoured car and with the binoculars he is watching the enemy camp while they are driving away.

About seven kilometres from the camp, they stop the armoured car in the middle of the road and both men get out of it.

Ryno carries a full can of fuel that he found inside the armoured car and it takes him a few minutes to set up some plastic explosive with a timer.  He splashes some fuel out on both sides of the armoured car over a big stretch of elephant grass and then he sets the field alight while both men go and hide behind a rock outcrop.

”Very clever.  They will think that it had run over a landmine,” the other South African remarks laughing.  “Still it’s more than three hundred kilometres to the chop line?”

The next moment there are two explosions that follow shortly after each other and they have got to flee before the flames as the wind is driving the flames on.