netting and stepped out into the rain, carrying with him his machete and the plastic bottle that had once held shampoo.
He disappeared into the bush, returning in no more than two minutes with more tree branches, thick with leaves. He sharpened the ends and jammed them into the ground so that they shielded the fire Jette had laid from the rain.
Then he sprayed the fire bed with the contents of the former shampoo bottle, took a Zippo lighter from his pocket, and ignited the liquid.
Sergeant First Jette’s eyes widened in appreciation.
“When you have to build a fire in the rain, Sergeant Jette,” Thomas said, “there’s nothing like a little avgas. Write that down.”
“I cannot write, Major, sir,” Jette said.
Shit!
Thomas waited until the burning avgas had the leaves and chips burning well, and then added larger pieces of wood.
Without waiting to be told, Jette loped off into the bush and returned with another armful of wood.
“It seems to be burning nicely, Sergeant First Jette,” Thomas said. “Put a few more pieces of wood on it, and then come in the tent.”
Jette squatted before the fire and nurtured it until he was confident it would remain on fire, then went under the nylon netting.
Thomas handed him dinner: fried chicken and a cold baked potato from the kitchen of the Hotel du Lac.
“There is also two bottles of beer,” Thomas said, “but you will have to get them from my rucksack. I forgot.”
“I have beer,” Jette said. “I did not know if the Major, sir, would approve.”
“The major approves.”
“You have been in the Bush before, Major, sir,” Jette said.
“Not this bush, Sergeant. And not for as long as you. You are a master of the bush.”
“What is your tribe?”
“I have no idea,” Thomas said. “For all I know, my family may have been from here. I look like you.”
Jette nodded his acceptance of that.
“You talked to the airplane, Major, sir?”
“He told me the reaction force is at Outpost George. He will tell them to come here. I could not talk to them on the radio.”
“When they get here, we kill the Simbas, Major, sir? When the rain stops? When it is dark?”
“It is best, Sergeant First Jette, to know all you can about the enemy and his position before you attack, and it is better to attack with twenty men than two.”
Jette nodded his acceptance of that philosophy.
“Tonight, you and I will locate the Simbas precisely. And in the morning, with twenty men, and with a little luck, a machine gun, we will attack them.”
Jette nodded again.
“The airplane will come back if I cannot talk to the reaction force on my radio, and he will tell us when they are coming.”
Jette nodded again.
“Get the beer, Sergeant First Jette,” Thomas said. “I always like a beer with my supper.”
“Yes, Major, sir.”
They had just finished their chicken and cold baked potato dinner when both heard the sound of the L-19’s engine.
“Oh, shit,” Doubting Thomas said aloud. “That means no reaction force radios.”
He got to his feet and motioned for Jette to follow him.
It had stopped raining, but the ground and the tree were still rain-slick.
Here lies Master Sergeant William E. Thomas, who busted his ass climbing a fucking tree.
“Birddog, Hunter, I’m back in the fucking tree. How read?”
“Five by five,” Geoff Craig replied. “All their batteries are dead.”
“Oh, shit!”
“Yeah. Well, they’re on their way. Twenty shooters, no machine gun, and a jeep, no trailer.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to Woolworth. There’s batteries there. I’ll be back at first light—first light here, I can take off from there in the dark—and I’ll drop the batteries to the smoke clearing. When you hear my engine, pop yellow smoke.”
“I have one only yellow. Can you get me more?”
“Sure.”
“And four bottles of beer, and enough fried chicken for two.”
“Done, and don’t get yourself eaten by a hungry lion while I’m gone.”
“Thanks, Lieutenant.”
“Be careful, Bill. See you in the morning. Birddog out.”
“Hunter out.”
When he’d reached the ground again, Sergeant First Jette had a worried look on his face.
“What’s bothering you?” Thomas asked.
“If we can hear the airplane, the Simbas can hear the airplane,” Jette said.
“It’s almost impossible to tell the direction of an airplane from the sound,” Thomas said. “And he was flying close to the tree-tops, so they couldn’t see him.”
Jette considered that for a long moment, then nodded.
“If the Major, sir, wishes to sleep, I will stay awake,” he said.
“We will take two-hour turns, Sergeant First Jette,” Thomas said. “That way we both get some sleep.”