167- Diary of a Madman

Tired of the everyday grind? Ever dream of a life of romantic adventure? Wanna get away from it all? We offer you Escape! Escape! Designed to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high adventure!

You are staggering across the blazing Sahara. Your body charred with the sun, while somewhere ahead of you, lying in wait for you, is a tribe of natives, ready to either make you their king or kill you.

Listen now, as escape brings you less Crutchfield's exciting story, diary of a madman! From Berliner's history of the Second World War, volume 2, page 98. During the month of November 1942, the disintegrating German forces in North Africa, with the British 8th Army doggedly at their heels, moved really westward.

Morale was low, and desertions frequent. But the soldiers of the Third Reich, whose singly or in small groups, struck southward into the terrible vastness of the Sahara, soon found the blazing days in the freezing nights and the dry and lonely cruelty of the desert, far more formidable than any mortal foe.

The fate of most is unknown, for a few of them were ever heard of again. North Africa, November 24th, 1942. Today I begin my diary. The diary of und offered see a hunts brook, German 15th Armoured Division, entry number one.

9pm The light wind is throwing a haze of dust and fine sand over the Bivouag area. And visibility is poor. A perfect night for it. They are waiting for me now, out at the last outpost on our southern flank.

I picked them myself. Ten men who fear neither God nor devil. Desperate men, we stand ready to gamble with death for a chance at an empire. Capo? Where is it? Hans.