The pilots didn't have the same defensive terrain as Randolph, so they had to rely on the carcasses of the slain camels and fight back against the enemy. Second Lieutenant Lehard carried a civilian shotgun of 7.9 mm caliber, which was clearly not standard equipment for the Luftwaffe, but a self-defense weapon purchased by the pilot at his own expense.

Because of the possibility of a forced landing in the wilderness, where pilots would have to face the threat of predators in addition to enemy troops, the Luftwaffe allowed light aircraft pilots to carry an additional hunting firearm for hunting and self-defense in the wilderness.

Historically, the Luftwaffe units stationed in North Africa once issued pilots with a special life-saving rifle, equipped with two barrels, upper and lower, which could fire rifle bullets and shotgun shotgun shells at the same time. However, at this time, the African Army had only just been established, and of course there was no way to talk about any special equipment.

The German pilots were surrounded and the lives of the German soldiers were in danger, but the two men resisted stubbornly, and after discussing the local stake punishment, they vowed never to let themselves fall into the hands of the other alive. Just when Lehard thought that his life might end here, he suddenly heard a familiar voice in his ears.

"Do you hear that? Creson. Leaning against the overturned camel frame, Lehard turned his face to his companion and shouted.

"What are you talking about?" Corrison raised his hand and fired two shots in quick succession, knocking over a black slave janissary who was trying to get closer.

"Listen carefully," Lehard shouted excitedly, "that's the sound of the engine." The pilot then pulled the bolt and loaded the chamber.

"Is it an airplane? No, no, no... It seems to be... It's a car! Chrison was also excited, no matter what was driving this way, it must be his own people anyway.

In those years, Saudi Arabia did not have many cars in the whole country, not to mention the fact that they produced oil locally, but they did not build oil refineries, and all the finished fuel oil had to be imported from abroad. Moreover, Saudi Arabia's modern industry at this time was almost zero, and even if it worked hard to get a car, there was a lack of manpower for daily repair and maintenance.

Only the direct unit of the Saudi royal family is equipped with a very small mechanized force, equipped with eight British-made Vickers ultralight tanks and eight Bren machine gun vehicles, as well as more than a dozen wheeled armored vehicles produced by Rolls-Royce.

The Arab Janissaries also heard the distant roar, and they immediately stopped attacking the pilots and began to regroup at the edge of the sand dunes not far away.

The noble man subconsciously felt that this battle might not be able to continue, and this operation must have been cursed by something, and he inexplicably encountered a series of accidents and obstructions along the way.

And the slave guards were also horrified to find that now they could not even make a normal retreat, and this small army was now like a lion stuck in a quicksand pit, with sharp teeth and sharp teeth, but unable to change its situation.

The Janissary mounts and logistical caravans were all dispersed, and although the Bedouin knights recovered a few Arabian horses, it was clearly not enough to take everyone away. Moreover, without the supplies and fresh water on the camels, even if they successfully retreated from this place, they would not be able to go far, this desert is simply a demon, and I don't know how many travelers have been devoured on weekdays.

"Master, the sentry saw a lot of smoke and dust, it should be reinforcements from the Germans." Abdul respectfully reported to the nobleman. The Praetorian Guards had suffered heavy losses in the previous battles, and had lost most of their supplies, and if they were attacked by enemy reinforcements, they would be in a very dangerous situation.

"Retreat, retreat into the desert, they won't dare catch up." The nobleman once again lost his original composure, and he shouted the order.

He knew very well that he had completely messed things up this time, and even if he was able to escape back to the capital, he would definitely be severely punished.

Fasher was just an ordinary member of the royal family, Ibn Saud was his uncle, and there were more than sixty princes of his status in the tribe.

Farsher. Root. Abdul. Root. Although Muhammad had the title of prince and had a noble lineage and status, it was nothing more. Ibn Saud gave birth to a large number of sons, and the Saudi throne simply did not take the turn of a side line like El Fasher to inherit it.

However, Farsher is a self-motivated member of the royal family, and he has a strong thirst for power, and this time he took the initiative to ask the king to come all the way from Riyadh to this barren land, in order to prove his ability to his uncle.

But now it seems that everything has come to naught, not only did he not complete the task assigned by the king, but he lost his troops in the mission, and the royal family was already a place of intrigue and intrigue, and now I don't know how many people are waiting to fall into the well against him.

"Honorable master, we must leave some people behind." Abdul reminded Fasher.

Fasher didn't answer immediately, he turned around and looked at the soldiers in line silently, suddenly a small whirlwind blew on the sand, and the guards hurriedly pulled up the headscarves hanging on the side of their faces to cover the choking sand.

"Leave twenty people behind." Fasher glanced at Abdul and ordered in a deep voice.

One of the guards led the prince's mount, and Fasher grabbed the saddle's neat stirrups and rolled over, and after sitting down on the horse's back, the prince took a handful of gold coins from his saddle and sprinkled them on the sand beside the horse.

"This is a reward for these warriors, at least hold on to a cup of hot tea." The prince tugged the reins, and the beautiful Arabian warhorse stopped its restlessness, the sensitive animal, which may have sniffed out the danger that was coming.

The Arabs withdrew from the encirclement, and the pilots took the opportunity to flee in the direction of the arrival of reinforcements.

"Hey! It's your own people! Lehard threw up his hands and danced vigorously.

"See you guys.... Really... It's great. Krison sat down on the sand, gasping for breath.

"Which troop are you?" The reconnaissance commander leaned into the machine-gun tower of the 222 armored car and asked.

"I'm Second Lieutenant Lehard, and this is Sergeant Major Corrisson." Lehard ran to the armored car, raised his head and replied loudly.

"Second Lieutenant Lehard, Sergeant Major Corryson?!" It's a pleasure to see you all safe and sound, I'm Sergeant Schneider, the 21st Afrika Korps Regiment, and we're looking for you on orders from the Corps Command. The commander looked genuinely happy, his back molars almost bursting into laughter.

"Thank God, you came in real time." Crescent finally regained his breath, and he stood up and walked over to Lehard.

"We happened to see the smoke you made, Sergeant Major." The reconnaissance commander said with a smile.

"Smoke? Hell, I almost forgot, you immediately contacted the large forces in the rear, and we had to go to Hamill Springs to support at once, where a group of Arabs was besieging a German army. Lehard said aloud.

"Are you sure?"

"The sergeant major and I fought with the Arabs just now, didn't you hear the gunshot?" The pilot was irritated by the suspicion in the other party's tone.

"I'm sorry, second lieutenant, I'll get in touch with my superiors right away." The commander immediately chose to give in, it was a second lieutenant officer.

"It may be too late for the follow-up forces to arrive, and we should go to the rescue now." Lehard suggested.

"But we only have this one armored car." The commander hesitated.

"That's enough, don't you still have two machine guns on it?" Crescent grabbed the fender and climbed onto the body.

"This is a twenty-millimeter cannon."

"Isn't the machine gun more powerful?" The sergeant major sat on the platform at the rear of the turret.

"Well, I'm going to report to my superiors first." The commander picked up the microphone attached to the headset.

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"What are those Arabs doing?" Randolph crouched in front of the window, holding a telescope and observing the enemy.

There seemed to be a battle taking place behind the sand dunes in the distance, and the dense gunfire could be heard very clearly. Since then, the Arabs have stopped their incessant attacks.

"Maybe they're having infighting, which happens all the time in this country." Jürgen began to consider himself an expert on Arab issues again, but the former Gestapo was more confident than the rest of the group.

"What do you hear from that?" Captain Horn's shouts rang out from the rooftop.

Everyone hurriedly listened with bated breath, and sure enough, they noticed a series of dull knocks in the distance.

"It's a machine gun!" Krieger is most sensitive to this sound.

"Gentlemen, that's reinforcements from the Führer!" Randolph stood up and excitedly announced to his subordinates.

"These guys have finally found us."

"Long live Germany!"

"Hey! Heinhardt! There was a burst of cheers from up and down the station.

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"Master, it's an armored car! Armored vehicles of the Germans! Abdul rode on a captured dromedary and reported loudly to El Fasher.

"Immediately retreat, everyone carries only weapons, food and fresh water, and everything else is thrown on the spot." The prince ordered to.

"Master, I must remind you that we have limited fresh water." Abdul said.

"But the Germans did not know that they would not risk getting lost and go deep into the desert to pursue us." Farsher thrust the Arabic cutlass at his waist was inserted into the holster by the saddle.

"We just have to hide in the desert for a day, they won't stay here for long, and when they leave, we'll turn south, and I'm going to Akhufaha." Fasher took the sheepskin water bag handed by the guard, shook it, and stuffed it into the saddle bag.

Each Praetorian Guard carried a hydration bag with him, and although some of it had been consumed on the way here, most of these hydration bags were still half full. Many soldiers had died in the battle just now, and after collecting the water bags of the dead, if they were used sparingly, they should be enough to support the remaining soldiers for a day or two.

"The warriors of the palace have exchanged fire with the enemy." Abdul said.

In fact, without the report of this henchman, Farsher could also hear the gunfire coming from behind him.

"It's time for us to go." Fasher tugged at the reins and turned his horse's head, and he immediately climbed over the sand dunes, looking once again at the ancient inn below.

"Hateful German, I, Farsher, will definitely come back!" The Arab prince made a declaration coldly.

PS: Thank you for your support, this month is a new beginning for the author, but also a kind of continuation, with you by your side, I don't feel lonely from thousands of mountains and rivers.

The time difference is gradually being overcome, and the author is continuing to work on it, thank you.