March

After Alfredo's advice was shared, Qin Chuan realized that many vehicles had encountered similar problems. The drivers were used to inflating their tires fully before setting off, but fully inflated tires were particularly rigid. Combined with the heavy loads of fuel, water, and supplies in the trucks, the tires would easily sink into the soft desert sand.

Originally, the logistics unit had discussed reducing the load by discarding some supplies, but these supplies were crucial for the troops to survive the desert crossing. Just as they were hesitating, Alfredo's advice came through: "If your wheels get stuck in the sand, let some air out of the tires!"

At first, the logistics officers didn't believe that such a simple solution could resolve the issue. However, they decided to try it, and to their surprise, the trucks stopped getting bogged down in the sand, solving a major headache for the logistics unit.

"Well done, Frick!" Three-Fingers Basil said to Qin Chuan after receiving a report about the solution. "You've found two very useful people and earned yourself another commendation!"

"Sir," Qin Chuan replied, "Alfredo deserves some of the credit. It was actually his idea to deflate the tires."

"Alfredo?"

"Yes, sir," Qin Chuan said, glancing at the Italian lieutenant beside him. "This is Lieutenant Alfredo."

"Oh!" Basil quickly understood and then turned to Alfredo. "Lieutenant, thank you for your assistance. I'll make sure your superiors hear about your outstanding contribution to our forces."

"Thank you, sir!" Alfredo was overjoyed. A commendation from the German army was a rare honor for an Italian officer. If he received it, his career prospects would be bright indeed!

After Basil walked away, Alfredo turned to Qin Chuan and said, "Thank you, Frick!"

"No, it was the right thing to do," Qin Chuan replied.

This was the truth. Qin Chuan didn't want to take credit for someone else's achievement, and he also felt somewhat guilty for dragging Alfredo into this situation.

The march proceeded relatively smoothly at first, thanks largely to Bushra, the guide. The ancient trade routes had been established for good reason, and occasionally, the troops even found a few wells along the way. Although the water from these wells was scarce and had a bitter, salty taste, it was still valuable for replenishing their supplies.

At these stops, Bushra would fill the empty water bags and load them onto the camels. The bags were made from goatskin, sewn together with the inside turned out, and treated with tar extracted from colocynth seeds to make them watertight—an excellent solution for carrying water in the desert.

Bushra even introduced them to the colocynth itself, a plant native to the Sahara. It produced small, round fruits slightly larger than passionfruit, with an enticing sweet aroma. However, in the harsh desert environment, most fruits were poisonous, and colocynth was no exception. Eating it could cause severe diarrhea, which in the desert could be fatal.

This knowledge was quickly shared with the entire regiment, and the soldiers learned to keep their curiosity in check.

Three days into the march, the soldiers began to adapt to the desert environment and started to relax a bit.

"I don't think the desert is so scary after all, right?" Big Bear said. "At this pace, another ten days doesn't seem so bad."

"We're moving faster than expected!" The baker, studying the map, remarked. "If I've calculated correctly, we've covered about 160 kilometers in the past three days, averaging over 50 kilometers a day. At this rate, we should reach our destination in seven days."

To confirm his assessment, the baker asked Alfredo to check with Bushra.

"It won't be that easy," Bushra responded. "The past three days, we've been traveling along the edge of the desert. The next few days will take us into the heart of the wasteland. For the next four days, there will be no wells to replenish our water supply until we reach the Mersa Matruh oasis."

This news cast a pall over the soldiers.

Werner asked, "Do we have enough water to last four more days?"

The question quickly made its way up the chain of command to Basil, who relayed it to the logistics unit.

The logistics unit's response brought some relief: they had enough water for the entire regiment for six days.

A short while later, Werner seemed to recall something and said, "Hey, guys! That means... even with wells along the way, we've only got enough water for nine days. But our plan was to cross the desert in twelve days, right?"

"No, you're not mistaken," Big Bear replied. "Which means we were originally supposed to spend at least three days, maybe more, marching through this godforsaken desert without any water."

The soldiers' faces grew grim. They all understood what this meant: in the desert, water was as essential as air. When you had it, you barely noticed its importance, but when it was gone, it was life-threatening.

"We should be thanking Frick, shouldn't we?" Werner said. "He made a very wise decision that may have saved all our lives!"

The soldiers agreed, their eyes now showing a mix of gratitude toward Qin Chuan. Even Keller, who had been shadowing Qin Chuan, looked at him with admiration and pride.

But Qin Chuan wasn't comfortable accepting this praise. He knew from his studies of history that only half of the German regiment would survive to reach their destination at Tengger. 

Because of the heavy losses and the severe exhaustion, they would eventually abandon all their heavy equipment and much of their ammunition. In the harsh desert conditions, simply having the strength to keep moving was an achievement, let alone worrying about future battles.

As a result, the regiment wouldn't play the decisive role it was meant to—cutting off the British supply lines and halting their retreat. This, in turn, would contribute to Rommel's defeat at the First Battle of El Alamein. The British, having managed to escape Rommel's encirclement with their main forces and much of their equipment intact, would later use those resources to great effect in the subsequent battles.

But that was a story for another day.

For now, Qin Chuan could only hope that he had saved the half of the regiment that otherwise might have perished in the desert.