Read Online The Rat Patrol 3 - The Trojan Tank Affair by David King - Free Book Online
Authors: David King
Ads: Link
hill and came roaring in from behind. Troy swung his machine gun to the side and grasped the spade grips. He had a fleeting glimpse of a group of men in robes and opened fire. He raked them, holding the gun down at their waists and heard the rattle of Moffitt's gun from the other side. Tully swerved the jeep and came back for another pass. Troy saw four or five figures prone in the dirt. Others were working at their guns to bring them around.
On this run, Tully drove straight into the machine guns before they opened fire. Troy fired over his head as the robed figures scattered, running and diving to the ground. Troy worked them over with short bursts that sent the dust flying and the men pitching on their faces. An explosion rocked the jeep and a second sent stones and chunks of dirt crashing into it as two grenades blasted. Tully smashed into one of the machine guns, ran over it and raced on. Once more, Tully skidded the jeep around and this time he took it in for the mop up.
Two men still were on their feet. One was at some kind of weapon which Troy had thought was a machine gun but which now seemed to be a miniature artillery piece. It was pounding away. The other man was firing either a light machine gun or machine pistol. Troy heard the whining zing of slugs from the light piece as he stitched the gunner at the peculiar-looking heavy weapon. Another burst and he brought down the second man.
Tully banged on the brakes and he and Troy ran toward the figures scattered over the ground. Tully had his tommy-gun and Troy the German MG-42. They ran from one robed figure to the next, rolling them over with their boots and looking at their faces. The fifth or sixth body which Troy turned over seemed fairer of skin than the others and he pulled back the burnoose. The man's hair was blonde. Troy ripped off the robe and found the tan uniform of the Afrika Korps that he expected. He searched the pockets quickly but they were empty.
On the other side of the track, the Browning stuttered in a final burst and the silence of death descended abruptly over the rocky edge of the desert. A dust cloud settled marking the place where Hitch and Moffitt had stopped. Troy went over to examine the two machine guns. The one Tully had crashed was a tripod-mounted British Vickers three-oh-three caliber, but Troy could not make out the other. It was a machine gun all right, a heavy one, shielded and mounted on a small, wheeled carriage. He had never seen a weapon like it.
"Doctor," he called. "Come on over when you can."
He went back to the robed figures with Tully to make sure they all were dead. There were twelve Arabs and the Jerry made the thirteenth.
After a few minutes, Hitch drove over and Moffitt jumped down, smiling as he walked to Troy who was back at the machine gun on wheels.
"Tom Thumb artillery have you stumped?" he asked and laughed aloud. "That's a Russian twelve-point-seven millimeter D. Sh. K. M1938. It's the heavy machine gun our allies by chance and circumstance assign to their infantry. You know the other, the good old Vickers. It's the same set-up, complete with German officer on the other side. Jerry is arming the Arabs with captured weapons. Cheaper that way, although he would have done well to have kept the M1938. It's almost as good as the Browning. This little trap would have raised hob with the convoy. You notice they're about a hundred yards down here from the position on the other side. They'd have permitted the lead truck to get just beyond them here and then both sides would have opened fire. Well, shall we put these pieces out of order and be off?"
"There are some grenades someplace around," Troy said. "They threw a couple at us."
They found a dozen of the potato masher type stick grenades. Moffitt and Hitch took six of them and drove back to the position they'd attacked.
"Toss them, Sarge?" Tully asked doubtfully.
"Pile them under the weapon," Troy said. "We'll drive off a hundred yards and detonate them
On this run, Tully drove straight into the machine guns before they opened fire. Troy fired over his head as the robed figures scattered, running and diving to the ground. Troy worked them over with short bursts that sent the dust flying and the men pitching on their faces. An explosion rocked the jeep and a second sent stones and chunks of dirt crashing into it as two grenades blasted. Tully smashed into one of the machine guns, ran over it and raced on. Once more, Tully skidded the jeep around and this time he took it in for the mop up.
Two men still were on their feet. One was at some kind of weapon which Troy had thought was a machine gun but which now seemed to be a miniature artillery piece. It was pounding away. The other man was firing either a light machine gun or machine pistol. Troy heard the whining zing of slugs from the light piece as he stitched the gunner at the peculiar-looking heavy weapon. Another burst and he brought down the second man.
Tully banged on the brakes and he and Troy ran toward the figures scattered over the ground. Tully had his tommy-gun and Troy the German MG-42. They ran from one robed figure to the next, rolling them over with their boots and looking at their faces. The fifth or sixth body which Troy turned over seemed fairer of skin than the others and he pulled back the burnoose. The man's hair was blonde. Troy ripped off the robe and found the tan uniform of the Afrika Korps that he expected. He searched the pockets quickly but they were empty.
On the other side of the track, the Browning stuttered in a final burst and the silence of death descended abruptly over the rocky edge of the desert. A dust cloud settled marking the place where Hitch and Moffitt had stopped. Troy went over to examine the two machine guns. The one Tully had crashed was a tripod-mounted British Vickers three-oh-three caliber, but Troy could not make out the other. It was a machine gun all right, a heavy one, shielded and mounted on a small, wheeled carriage. He had never seen a weapon like it.
"Doctor," he called. "Come on over when you can."
He went back to the robed figures with Tully to make sure they all were dead. There were twelve Arabs and the Jerry made the thirteenth.
After a few minutes, Hitch drove over and Moffitt jumped down, smiling as he walked to Troy who was back at the machine gun on wheels.
"Tom Thumb artillery have you stumped?" he asked and laughed aloud. "That's a Russian twelve-point-seven millimeter D. Sh. K. M1938. It's the heavy machine gun our allies by chance and circumstance assign to their infantry. You know the other, the good old Vickers. It's the same set-up, complete with German officer on the other side. Jerry is arming the Arabs with captured weapons. Cheaper that way, although he would have done well to have kept the M1938. It's almost as good as the Browning. This little trap would have raised hob with the convoy. You notice they're about a hundred yards down here from the position on the other side. They'd have permitted the lead truck to get just beyond them here and then both sides would have opened fire. Well, shall we put these pieces out of order and be off?"
"There are some grenades someplace around," Troy said. "They threw a couple at us."
They found a dozen of the potato masher type stick grenades. Moffitt and Hitch took six of them and drove back to the position they'd attacked.
"Toss them, Sarge?" Tully asked doubtfully.
"Pile them under the weapon," Troy said. "We'll drive off a hundred yards and detonate them
Similar Books
