Private Du Bois swings smartly around on the fort’s battlement at Dini Salam, where he stands guard. He had already done it so many times, and he wished that the time would come for someone to relieve him. It is sweltering hot because it is just after midday. The excitement about the approaching Arab army has long since left him. When he turns around again, he looks through the heat waves at the horizon to the south, as he had done many times before, but this time he halts.
“Mon Dieu,” he whispers, his heart missing a beat. “Mon Dieu,” he gasps again because suddenly it seems as if the south side of the horizon had come to life, and not with the heat waves, but with Arabs.
Mon DieuMon DieuThey come on like a multi-colored cloud formation, and it looks like they are filling the horizon fr
