Prose

Mahambo is still busy at the grave, when two explosions come suddenly from a southern direction.   He almost looses his balance as he treads skew and sees that the whole world is burning.
 
When he takes his gaze away from the flames he realizes that all the people around him, except the KGB Colonel, have taken cover beyond some of the graves.

”What the hell?  Does the enemy want to fry us in our own camp?  Such demons,” he says to himself.

”We will have to evacuate the camp immediately,” Colonel Petrofski remarks worried.  Mahambo shakes his head.  “No.  We have got to rescue the camp.”

”But how?” The Russian wants to know discouraged.   “We will have to make a twelve meter fire-break, to kill the fire against it.

I do not believe that twelve-meter is going to be enough with a fire like this.   It is going to jump right over it and there is also the wind and all of the trees and bushes in that strip that you want to burn.”

For a short moment Mahambo frowns and he shakes his head.   “Come I will explain in my office,” he says to the Russian before he commands the other people at the funeral to immediately gather on the parade ground.

”But Colonel we are in the middle of the funeral,” Major Laranja remarks where he is dusting dirt from his uniform.

”It can wait until later, or do you want us all to be killed today.   Leave your feeble-mindedness, man.   I want the people within ten minutes on the parade ground.   Immediately go and cause alarm in the camp.”

”Everybody Colonel?  Also the guards, the women and children?”  “Yes are you stupid or something?  Have I got to spell it out to you? Go and get everybody that can fight the fire.   Everybody of ten years and older,” Mahambo roars before he and the Russian jumps into the jeep and they drive away in a cloud of dust.

While there is worry and fear on the faces of the officers that are gathered in the office, the face of the Russian is expressionless and Mahambo’s face radiates tranquillity and confidence.

Across from the picture of Sam Nojoma that hangs somewhat skew, there’s a map of the military town against the opposite wall and on it Mahambo indicates with his pace-stick while he is explaining.

”Comrade, I want one of the pilots to immediately take off with one of the helicopter and to hang above the fire to keep us up to date about it,” he commands the Cuban officer that is in charge of the helicopter unit.

”With all respect Colonel.   We do not have equipment to gather water and the rotors will only cause the fire to burn much quicker.”  “No, comrade.  He must fly high and keep radio contact with us and keep a eye out for some approaching enemy units.”

At that moment Laranja comes running into the office.  “Colonel, almost the whole camp is gathered on the parade ground,” he reports and in his hurry he had had forgotten to come to attention and to salute.

”Good. Divide them in groups of ten and march them to the vehicle park.   I want the stores to release anything with which the fire can be fought.   Get drivers for the vehicles and have the five water lorries pump water from the river into their water tanks if necessary.  I want you to set your people up ten paces from each other,” Mahambo orders while he draws a line on the map that runs from about a kilometre from the camp, to the river and the Serpa Pinto road.

When the commander of the armoured battalion wants to talk, his voice is silenced by the roar of one of the Hind helicopters, which is taking off.

”Comrade Colonel, my battle tank drivers can help drive some of the trucks,” he suggests.  Mahambo shakes his head.

”No comrade.   I need them to drive their battle tanks.   I have seen some mine ploughs equipped to your battle tanks.   Today you are going to remove bushes and trees, from the strip that we are going to prepare.  I do not mind how you do it.  If you plough or drive over the trees.”

A short slender soldier marches into the office and salutes after halting.  “You did call me, comrade Colonel?”

’Yes.  Get on your radio and summon all units back.   Tell them to immediately return to the camp.  Including the helicopters that have left.”

It is hard work to prepare the firebreak in time, but it is with desperation born from despair that the soldiers are working.

Four times they have to struggle to keep the fire at the firebreak strip under control, but it is quenched in time by the fire brigade wagon that had come along with the helicopters from Serpa Pinto.

When the firebreak is prepared there is hardly enough time to spray the strip with water from the water trucks and fire brigade wagon, before the approaching flames are upon them.

”It had been a chance that you had taken, comrade.   The enemy could have waited in ambush for us to leave the camp,” the Russian remarks while some fire-fighters make sure that pieces of glowing ash do not start new fires across the fire-break strip while the fire is being stopped.

”Who does not dare will not win,” Mahambo replies and at that very moment they hear the noise of approaching vehicles and aircraft.

The Russian smiles reassuring.   “No comrade.  They are ours.  I know the sound of our vehicles and aircraft.  It must be the soldiers that you have ordered back to the camp.”