1901

Joh

It also amused Joh

Although Joh

He had been waiting hours for an opportunity. He would wait for weeks if he had to, but he knew from the insolent way the Germans traveled that his time would soon come. There were no pickets and no scouts or guards. The Germans must have thought they owned the land over which they traveled.

As the night shadows lengthened, the flow of wagons thi

That would not happen.

Joh

Finally the one who had laughed stepped off the wagon and into the brush, only feet from where Joh

Joh

Now what? The young MacArthur had said the idea was not only to kill Germans but to make them afraid as well, afraid of the night and the creatures roaming in it. Joh

When the bodies were neatly arranged, Joh

He slapped the horses on their rumps and started them clopping down the trail. With a little bit of luck, they’d be well away from the kill site before they were discovered. If so, he could use the area again. Perhaps the wagon with its grisly load would make it all the way to a German camp. Wouldn’t that spoil their sleep!

Joh

Ian Gordon was resplendent in his red tunic. He snapped a quick salute. “My heartiest congratulations, General. To think I knew you when you were nothing-a mere, total, and useless nobody.”

Patrick smiled warmly. “Thanks, Ian. I knew you’d help me keep things in perspective.” He rose and grasped the other man’s hand. “Now, what are you doing here? How can our leadership in Washington spare you?”

“As a matter of fact they can do so rather easily. I am now one of several British officers assigned as observers to General MacArthur. There are others from several nations watching this wonderful war unfold. If you would spend more time at headquarters you would see other Imperial types like me: garishly uniformed Frenchmen, even more garish Italians, and-are you ready for this?-little yellow men all the way from Japan. All of them are here to see how the mighty Imperial German Army wages war against your brave little army. None, save us, gives a fig who wins. They just want to see what might happen if they go up against Germany.”

Patrick caught on quickly, recalling Gordon’s background in military intelligence. “Certainly. And as an ‘observer’ from an ostensibly neutral nation, you would be in a position to pass on information that you might receive through your private cha

Gordon rolled his eyes in mock despair. “Patrick, that would be horrid. Unfair. How can you think so ill of me?”

“All right, have it your way. What brings you to my humble tent?”

“An overwhelming urge to see Mahan’s Bastard Brigade. My goodness, Germans and Negroes. Why haven’t they given you the Apaches as well?”

Patrick shuddered. “Little Mac can keep them. My God, have you heard some of the stories?”

“Yes. Wonderful, aren’t they? Still, the Apaches are not quite as clever as the Pathans or the Zulus when it comes to making death even more horrid than it usually is. Remind me to tell you how the Zulus impale live prisoners with a stake up their arse, and how long the Pathans take to skin a man alive.”