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let you know how Arthur is. I’m sure you will want to know. He is alive and, if not quite well, he is with us and that is the main thing. He’s in great pain. We all suffer for him. I cry every night at seeing how he is. They say he will have to have a lot of operations. I don’t think he’ll ever work again. His hands. I can’t describe them, but they were in a bad way. The girls are wonderful. Without them I don’t know how I’d have managed. We talk about you often. Arthur remembers you fondly. I hope when all this is finished, you’ll remember us and visit. Thanks for being such a friend to Arthur over the last year.

Danny put the letter down. Tears stung his eyes as he thought of his friend again. The memory of the hospital, the screams of men suffering, the smell of the disinfectant became real to him again. He wiped the tears away with the heel of his palm and folded the letter. He put it in his knapsack along with the others he’d kept from home. He returned to them often. The connection they provided was more than just with family or love even. They represented the best of him, and he wanted to preserve something of this in the midst of the brutality, the violence and the chivalry that surrounded him.

He looked around. The tanks were mostly camouflaged under canvas. This was to make them look like lorries for any aerial reconnaissance by the Luftwaffe. Men were sitting in the shade, engrossed in reading letters from home. It was as if they knew something was in the air. And it was. All around them there was a look in the eyes of the senior officers. An edginess that had been building throughout October. A fact picked up by PG.

‘You noticed they’re all a bit grim-faced these days.’

Danny looked at the Yorkshireman who was every bit as dour as men from that wonderful part of the world are reputed to be. He made a show of looking PG up and down.

‘Get out of it you, cheeky tyke. Some folks are serious. Not kids like you,’ said PG defensively. He ignored Danny’s laughter. Finally, Danny responded to the original thought.

‘I agree. Do you think they’re going to give us the orders soon?’ asked Danny.

‘Aye. I do. It’s a full moon on the 23rd. Makes sense to do it when we can all see each other.’

‘They can see us, too, n’all,’ remarked Danny moodily.

Later that morning the rumour became fact. It was Major Robert Crisp who broke the news to them. They all assembled in front of the South African. There was little of the usual banter that Crisp enjoyed so much. He went straight to it.

‘Men, Colonel Pyman has just given us our orders. They come all the way from Monty. It’s happening tomorrow night. We’re finally going in. As you know, it’ll be a night attack. There will be a number of phases. The first phase is named “Lightfoot”. The Sapper chaps will go in and remove those bloody mines. We’ll follow soon after that. This is the break-in phase. Two lanes will be cleared. One north and one south. The southern lane will be a feint. The real attack will occur in the northern lane. That’s where we’ll be. In both cases, the infantry will clear a path for the armour to storm the citadel, so to speak. Following this will be “Supercharge”. This phase will take place over a narrower front of around two to three miles and will involve two infantry brigades plus the armour. The good news is that we are going to be used in almost all the phases.’

He paused for a moment and regarded the men in front of him.

‘I know we’ve heard all this before, but I think this time it really will be different. I will read out to you the thoughts of our Commander-in-Chief.

Crisp took a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. Then he began to read, ‘When I assumed command of the Eighth Army, I said that the mandate was to destroy Rommel and his Army, and that it would be done as soon as we are ready. We are ready now. The battle which is now about to begin will be one of the decisive battles of history. It will be the turning point of the war. The eyes of the whole world will be on us, watching anxiously which way the battle will swing. We can give them their answer at once: “It will swing our way”. We have first-class equipment; good tanks; good anti-tank guns; plenty of artillery and plenty of ammunition; and we are backed up by the finest air striking force in the world. All that is necessary is that each one of us, every officer and man, should enter this battle with the determination to see it through – to fight and to kill – and finally, to win. If we all do this there can be only one result – together we will hit the enemy for “six”, right out of North Africa. The sooner we win this battle, which will be the turning point of the war, the sooner we shall all get back home to our families. Therefore, let every officer and man enter the battle with a stout heart, and the determination to do his duty as long as he has breath in his body. And let no man surrender so long as he is unwounded and can fight. Let us all pray that “The Lord mighty in battle” will give us victory.’

When he’d finished, he looked up at the men who were sitting in rapt attention.

‘Tomorrow night, Jerry will be on the receiving end of one almighty shellacking from our artillery boys. This will buy us time for the initial move through the minefields. Are there any questions?’

There were none.

‘Very well,

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