Prose

It is some hysteric screaming that wakes Dino Mahambo from his afternoon sleep, where he dozed away in the comfortable chair behind his desk.

The screaming sounds like the shrill screaming of women at the top of their voices and what is worse is that it is becoming louder.  What is more, Dino Mahambo is in a miserable mood.

It was bad enough to loose the chess match against the Russian officer.  In the inevitable vodka drinking that followed after the match, he had to beat the man with the drinks and now he has got the mother of all headaches.

”What the hell is going on,” he wants to know half angry from the framed picture of Sam Nojoma where it is hanging skew against the office’s wall and he walks quickly to the office door and jerks it open.

His adjutant’s office is empty but not for long.  It is suddenly clear to Mahambo why the screaming is getting louder and louder when his adjutant Major Laranja accompanied by KGB Colonel Petrof Petrofski comes into the office, followed by four PLAN-soldiers who are carry-dragging two screaming women with them.


“Shut up,” bellows Mahambo and for a moment there is silence, but the two women get a second breath and the noise starts afresh.
 
”I said shut up,” roars Mahambo and when walks up threatening to the women and lift his right hand to slap the daylight from them, against expectation such a silence envelopes the office that he can hear a blowfly buzzing at the office’s window.  He however hear some other women causing amok on the outside.

”Why do you scream like this,” he wants to know angrily.  “Colonel they say that the heads of two soldiers had exploded in front of them and a third had started bleeding, without a shot being fired.”

”The heads of soldiers do not just explode!  What kind of madness are you uttering here?  Did this two whores get drunk and then went to lie in the sun?”
 
For the first time the KGB officer speaks up.  “Colonel, all the women at the huts can surely not be mad and have this hallucination?  What is more, the Land cruiser that was allotted to us is still parked at their quarters.”

”They are scared.  They say it’s the work of evil spirits.  They say that it had happened quite suddenly and that everyone will be effected by these spirits, if we stay in the camp,” Laranja remarks with fear.

”Did you make alarm in the camp,” Mahambo wants to know from Laranja.  “Colonel people’s head’s do not just exploded.  Colonel Petrofski and I thought that we must first look into what have happened...”

”You idiots first want to examine what is happening, while we give the enemy time to keep killing us.  It is clear that they are using the one or other kind of silencer on their rifles.”

For another moment Laranja does not comprehend Mahambo’s words and Mahambo grabs onto his shirt.  “What are you standing there, man?  Deploy the soldiers immediately, to defend against a attack.”

”It can be the work of a sniper,” Petrofski remarks when Laranja leaves the office.  “Or a group of snipers, or the beginning of a Unita attack or the “Boors?”  How the hell do we know what is waiting outside in the bushes?”

”Does anybody know who have been shot,” Mahambo asks without expecting a answer from the group in his office.

”Colonel Toma's Ybarra of the DGI and Kolonel Paulino Joao of the PJI and Brigadier Gololo, who have got to command the offensive against Unita had visited these women’s huts at the time of the attack,” the Russian says worried.

”Oh, boy!  What will Luanda say about this?”  Mahambo wants to know with an expression of fear in his eyes.  “Rather ask what we are going to tell President Neto and General Sanchez,” the Russian replies.


“It is not what we are going to say, but what we are going to do that is the important thing.  If Unita is responsible for this we are going to kill their attackers to the last man.  If it is a sniper or a group of snipers are responsible we are going to catch him or them and hand him or them over to Luanda.”

”And if it is the South Africans, the “Boors?” one of the Cubans wants to know.

At that moment Mahambo becomes aware that the commanders of the Cuban armoured battalion and helicopter units, that is temporary based in the camp at Luanda’s request, have entered the office where they have listened to the discussion.

This is the first time that Mahambo is happy about the presence of the Cubans and their weapons, where he had thought that Luanda had lost trust in him by sending Brigadier Gololo and the Cubans to take over the camp.

It is also the first time that he is praying silently for the man who is wounded to be Brigadier Gololo and that he is still living.

Gololo is the higher officer and if things go wrong and he is still alive, Luanda’s anger will concentrate on him, Mahambo realises and smile at the two officers.

Where he could not tolerate the Cubans that came with their armoured units from the base at Techamutete (about sixteen kilometre south of Cassinga) and with their attack helicopters from Serpa Pinto (about a hundred kilometre north of Cassinga), he now greets them like long lost brothers.

”What is your orders,” one of the Cubans wants to know from Mahambo.  “We are going to get into that beautiful shining BRDM armoured car of yours and drive to the scene of the attack and see if we can still help the wounded man.”

Before Mahambo and the others are able to leave the office, Major Laranja marches in and halts with a thunder of boots before he salutes.

Mahambo wants to get angry at his adjutant, but there is something to the man’s conduct, that says that he has already compensated for his previous stupidity.

”The camp is safe, like you had ordered Colonel.  While we were scouting the scene of the attack, we came across Brigadier Gololo in the orange orchard.  He had received a bullet in the shoulder and has lost a lot of blood and has already been taken to the sickbay.  He thinks that it is the work of one sniper.  While falling he saw the reflection of a telescopic lens high in one of the trees and I have send scouts out and there is no sign of a big enemy force, but they may be further off.”

”Smartly done Major,” Mahambo remarks and asks worried:  “How bad is the condition of the Brigadier?”  “The chief orderly at the sickbay is only able to stop the bleeding and have given the Brigadier some painkillers and antibiotics.  The Brigadier has still got a bullet in his shoulder and a doctor’s attention is necessary to remove it.  He will have to be flown to Luanda as quickly as possible.”

”The further we stay away from Luanda until we catch the sniper, the better.  We will have to use the services of our own doctor,” Mahambo orders and the other soldiers in the office agree with him.

”I cannot expect one of my pilots to fly to a unknown place at night and to land there in the dark.  It’s a perfect opportunity for Unita to shoot that helicopter down,” one of the Cuban officers remarks.

”In that case the doctor will have to come here on her own,” Major Laranja replies.  “It is much too dangerous.  We do not really know what is waiting in the bushes.  Who will treat the rest of us if we are wounded if the doctor gets killed,” the KGB officer wants to know.

”We will fly the Brigadier tomorrow morning at sunrise to the doctor,” Mahambo decides and they start planning to capture and kill if necessary, the sniper or snipers.