World War II: Starting with the defeat of the Desert Fox

Chapter 16 Salt Marsh Trap

The salt marshland lay still under the moonlight in the night breeze, with fine salt grains dotting the surface, shimmering faintly, resembling a calm, silvery lake, where even the passing wind carried a sense of stagnant stillness.

Suddenly, a blinding beam of headlights pierced the sky above the salt marsh, followed by the rumble of a tank engine and the screeching noise of tracks grinding across the ground, shattering the silence.

It was a convoy organized by Thorne. Their headlights were all on, and the convoy, carrying sand and dust, sped toward their destination as fast as possible, as if racing against time.

In the Ford, Thea, sitting in the passenger seat, reminded Thorne:

"Should we keep a lower profile?"

"What I mean is, we should at least turn off the headlights."

"Otherwise, the Germans would spot us from a great distance."

Something like a Ford can be easily blown to bits with just a few shells.

"We don't have time, Thea." Thorne gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "It's all about who gets there first; everything else is secondary."

Thea nodded slowly.

Thorne was right; if the Germans had reached the salt flats first, everything would have been over.

"What are you planning to do?" Thea turned to look at Thorne. This oil salesman had given her enough surprises, repeatedly shattering her expectations.

"You'll see then." Thorne ignored Thea, maintained the car's direction and speed, looked back, leaned out and shouted to the water tanker following closely behind, "Follow me, speed up!"

Ferguson stood on the running board of the water tanker, using a signal flag to relay Thorne's words to the tanks behind: "Keep up, speed up!"

Fortunately, they arrived at the salt flats ahead of time.

Thorne parked the car by the salt marsh.

Thea and her men, including several tank commanders, got out of their vehicles and gathered around Thorne.

Thorne didn't waste any words, pointing to the junction of the road and sand dunes beside the salt marsh:

"Leave the tanks there, turn them around to block the intersection, and pretend you couldn't escape and abandoned them."

"My goal is to prevent the Germans from passing through the road smoothly and force them to take a detour through the salt marshes."

"Do you understand?"

Several tank drivers responded in unison, "Understood."

Soon after, the tanks made a rattling turn and deployed along the road. Then the soldiers lit grenades and threw them into the tank compartments to destroy them, preventing the Germans from starting them.

Thorne, meanwhile, continued his journey into the interior in his Ford, which carried a water tanker.

A few minutes later, he stopped the car, climbed onto the hood, and stood up to observe his surroundings.

Moonlight spilled across the earth, outlining the contours of the surrounding hills: some were bare rocky mountains, others were soft sand dunes, the western slope was gentle, while the eastern slope was steep and towering.

To outsiders, it was just an ordinary desert landscape, but Thorne, with a background in geology, could clearly sketch the outline of the entire salt marsh in his mind based on these subtle topographical features.

Using his own position as the center, he sketched a virtual plane in his mind and determined the extent of the salt marsh: a rectangle roughly running southwest, located exactly south of the road.

perfect.

Thorne thought to himself that this terrain could trap as many Germans as possible here.

At this moment, Thea, who had just gotten out of the car, listened carefully to the sound of the wind. Then her expression changed, and she anxiously reminded him, "Whatever you're thinking, Thorne, hurry up!"

Thorne listened intently and could faintly hear the sound of a motor amidst the sandstorm.

However, he didn't panic. He remained standing on the hood of the vehicle, his gaze sweeping over the terrain under the moonlight, his mind rapidly calculating the stress concentration points of the salt marsh.

Only by finding this point can the salt marsh be made to spread cracks in all directions from this point when subjected to stress, and trigger a chain reaction of collapses to the maximum extent.

The engine noise grew louder and louder, and several flashlight beams could be faintly seen in the sky.

Thea grew increasingly nervous. She skillfully retrieved a rifle from the car, loaded it with bullets, then crouched down beside the car, urging it on in a low voice:

"Hurry up, Thorne."

"There's no time left, we have to get out of here!"

"At least you got down there!"

Thorne, standing on high ground, would become a perfect target for his enemies.

However, Thorne remained standing still.

He recalled his geological knowledge: salt crusts are brittle plates, and stress is not evenly distributed. Therefore, the points where the strongest constraints, greatest curvature, densest cracks, and thinnest thickness overlap are the stress concentration points of this salt marsh.

The tank crew arrived in three jeeps, and Ferguson urged Thea anxiously, "We should go, Captain!"

Thea didn't answer, but instead cast a helpless look at Thorne.

If you keep delaying like this, you'll kill us all!

Suddenly, Thorne pointed to a spot to his side: "Go a hundred feet ahead, the water tanker is parked there!"

The driver, who was already prepared, stepped on the gas and turned the steering wheel sharply, and soon drove the water tanker to the location indicated by Thorne.

The soldiers, including Thea, were all relieved. They scrambled onto the jeep, picked up the water tanker driver, and then followed the Ford in the opposite direction through the sandstorm.

(The image above shows an American-made Ford GPW jeep, which was supplied to Britain in large quantities starting in 1942.)

"Do you think it will work?" Thea turned her head to look at Thorne in the driver's seat.

"I mean, the water tanker needs to leak water to dissolve the salt layer below."

"But what if the Germans don't splash water when they use it?"

"Or maybe not enough splashed..."

She imagined the Germans being overjoyed when they saw the water tanker, and how they frantically scrambled for the water.

At that time, water will seep into the sand surface and dissolve the salt layer, creating cracks.

Thorne glanced at Thea and said calmly, "So, we have to help them out."

"Help?" Thea looked at Thorne in confusion. "How can I help?"

Thorne gestured with his chin toward the back seat, where Thea's Enfield rifle lay: "I've heard that this rifle has a 10-round capacity, and a skilled soldier can fire 20 to 30 rounds per minute?"

"Yes," Thea said.

Thorne chuckled softly: "Can you do it?"

Thea understood instantly. She stared blankly at Thorne. Did this guy mean to shoot bullet holes in the water tanker with a rifle?

God, this can't be true, he's trying to put us twenty-odd men against an enemy armored regiment?

Seemingly to confirm her idea, Thorne suddenly turned the steering wheel to the right, and the car drove off the road and around the hills.

The jeep following behind was at a loss. The driver stepped on the brakes, and the soldiers stared blankly at the Ford ahead.

It wasn't until Thea leaned out of the Ford and waved to them that the soldiers, filled with confusion, started their vehicle and slowly followed.

The sandstorm continued to howl in the night, and a meticulously planned ambush was about to begin.