It was 5:30 when we woke up to the jailors bell; we had been in the POW camp for a week and a half.  As we walked to the mess hall, I noticed that most of the men I saw had their heads hung low, mere skeletons of the men they had once been. I was considered a notable among the jailors ,for I had known prison, and I knew the the jailors had it in for me.  I entered the mess and was served some cold pork with a slice of orange, a filthy meal but we choked it down because captain told us.  As we were walking back to the barrack, I heard a muffled shout, a gunshot, someone around me dropped, it was PJ. As I rushed over and knelt down to see if he was okay all I could say was “I didn’t know you had blue eyes!”  Then the butt of a gun struck me on the neck and I toppled over.
As I was being carried somewhere, all I could hear was the muffled shouts of guards. All I could see was the distant eyes of my bearers, eyes, eyes, blue, brown, green, gray until it was all I could see, the mixing and blending of them to recreate the most terrifying day of my life, a cold misty morning on the east bank of the Rufiji River.
We grabbed our guns, and hit the sand bags to fire at the commis. I saw that most of them were guerrillas from the Congo, 17 or so and two Russian machine gunners. Damn: we were only thirteen men. They quickly overtook us and took 5 of us as POWs.
We reached a communist outpost after what felt like hours . Then  we got out and tried to figure out who was alive. It turned out Captain was here, so was Zapp, Miles, PJ, and I, everyone else was killed.  As we entered the outpost, we heard jeering from some annoying commis. I wanted to shoot them in the faces with my sidearm, but I didn’t have it, the guerrilla who searched me found it. I waited until we were in a cell ‘till I asked if anyone was armed, no one was.   
At the outpost we were under 24 hour supervision by two 6 foot something Russian soldiers. Each of them had a huge assault rifle and a machine pistol. There names were Vladimir and Alexi and both were very loyal to Brezhnev so they were just about impossible to bribe. after a while in the cell we were brought before the commanding Russian officer and his translator. The officer's name was  Denikin and his translator was Mikhiel. He gestured for us to sit down and his translator started talking in a gravelly German accent,
“ My superior has told me to inform you that you shall be sent to a large POW camp in Maputo. Your transport will arrive in thirty six hours” he paused, exhaling sharply “You and the rest of your division will be under twenty four hour supervision by our top guards, so there will be no way to escape.” He waited for us to take that in. “ Oh yes we have heard the stories of Captain Mactavish and the ¨break squad.” I shuddered at the mention of that name; Yost had came up with that name, but he was dead, poor guy, he was Our sniper, he was killed when we were overtaken.
I awoke in the camp infirmary with Cap and Miles looking at me and a doctor checking my vitals. I looked them in the eyes then said “Phase one.”
We went back to our hut to make the plan, there I was welcomed by Zapp and a man who identified himself with the Greek Frogmen. The man’s name was Costas. Costas said that to break out we would need to “Either dig or go over the wood and barbed wire fence” “then what” Captain looked like he had been up all night. “We hope we live” said Zapp gravely. “Okay so what are we going to do?”I asked. Costas produced a map of the prison area, “There are watchtowers every  30 or so meters each with small scale explosives and machine guns” we all looked at each other and in unison said; “Ladder.” Costas seemed surprised but, it seemed that he understood us. “First order of business, we need to get a team together.Costas do you know any good men, English speakers, good at construction.” “I’ll see what I can do but no promises. Most of these guys are French though.”
“ Miles can speak some French” said Zapp
“I speak Italian. French was P.J,” Miles said.
“Okay I’m going to bed” I said.
As I was walking to the barrack I asked around for English speakers, there were 26 of them. They were mostly tank crews. As I walked up the steps to the barrack someone ran up to me, it was a prison guard “ Are you sergeant Jase Robertson?” “Yes. Why?” I replied “ You must come with me” I followed him to a squat building at the west end of the camp, it seemed to be the officers club by the slow jazz and the quiet murmuring. the guard said his name was Mikhail, and that he was taking me to be interrogated about P.J.’s death. Mikhail led me through a side door to the office of a man in his late 50’s “Sit down. Sit down my friend!” The man said sarcastically. “I’m not your friend.” I snapped back.He sighed “No one is nowadays” He mused “But back to business! I know you want out of here and so does every damn soul in disgusting place! So I will make a proposal to you: every prisoner is free and, every guard is allowed to start a new life in America.” “No way in hell!” He paused “We will all vote against Nixon?” “Have some of your men go to France and England” And after several hours of debate we agreed on a verdict: all the officers would go to France, all the guards would live in the U.S. and finally the labourers would all go to England.
When at last I got to sleep I slept like a baby, not waking till Zapp landed a slap to my left cheek “wake up dammit we have to plan the escape” “done” I said. “Sure” said Miles “I did! ask the commanding officer. We made it last night!” They all started cracking up “ Yeah, where’s is his office?” Where did that guard take me last night? ¨The officers club!, the side  door on the west end.¨
As we all sat down to breakfast there was a knock at the door, I answered .It was the guard who had taken me to the Officer. ¨we must go now there are many transport vehicles waiting for you, but first go to the armory and arm yourselves.¨ ¨Let's go! Everyone gets a pistol and light machine gun.¨ At the armory we all took some guns from the prison´s vast supply. I took a .44 magnum and a Kalashnikov, and loaded into a van with my squad and some people from an English tank battalion. Thier captain said it would be a thirty hour drive to the air base in Mokopane. “We will take turns switching of making sure that the Russians don’t turn us.”  Said Zapp “I’ll go first shi” I was cut of as a piece of shrapnel entered my right thigh “HIT THE DECK!” Someone shouted.
I awoke in the infirmary for the second time in three days yet something was  different, for all I could hear was the cheering of voices speaking English. A large man came over to the side of my bed and shook my hand. “Welcome home son” He said. “Who are you?” I replied “I’m Bobby Kennedy” “It’s an honor to meet you sir,” I was tripping over my words. “Where are we?” “Santa Barbara,” he said. “By the way, your squad is in the city getting the tour of the city. The doctors say you are okay to go out on crutches to meet up with them.” He sat down on an empty bed next to me and we looked around the hospital.6 It was all white and nothing was happening.
“I think I’ll go with my friends.”