The Conscript: A Novel of Libya's Anticolonial War

4. The Thirst of Death

45 F O U R The Thirst of death Early one morning the general commander passed the order that everyone should pack to leave and shouted, “Gird up your loins and move!” For himself, he carried water on his mule. So did his Italian companions. But who would look out for the conscripts? Even if they dried up from thirst, who would really care? They marched anyway. Without knowing where they were heading, they slugged along and couldn’t find any water on their way. not a trace of water. If you asked where the commanding officer was, he would be in his tent safekeeping his water. He had guards around his tent and stayed silent inside. A proverbial saying goes, “There are times when fighting a war is easier than resisting hunger.” Pity the conscripts who were on the brink of death from thirst yet were guarding the tent for somebody who carried water. Nobody could understand how terrible it must have felt for those who needed to get a share of the water. They were like the rich man in hell who longed for a drop of water from Lazarus. They would have loved to get a taste of water from anyone. But they weren’t there to privilege themselves by quenching themselves with water; they were supposed to stand there and prevent any other conscript from coming close to the tent. Whenever they heard the splash of water, their hearts would jump. It was exactly like watching a 46 The Conscript dog whose eyes, while one is eating, are raised and lowered following the movement of one’s hand. They were, after all, like dogs, if you compared them with the Italians. In fact, dogs fared better; they at least ate their masters’ leftovers. Nobody knew what those conscripts who were abandoned outside, who looked like monkeys hampered from drinking water, were doing. Some of them were restlessly moving back and forth; some lay down throbbing. Others were desperately digging up the sand by hand in case they could find water. Poor souls, they thought they could dig up water easily in the same way as in their homeland. They found the sand hotter as they dug deeper, and losing all their patience, they looked up to the sky and prayed to their God in despair, “O All-Seeing God, we are in distress.” A few among them (not only one or two) had patience and would try to calm down the rest but were out of words. How would it be possible to utter a word when the throat was dry and the tongue couldn’t get any saliva? Their lips were chapped and dry, their eyes dull, their faces ashy, and their eyelids covered with dust. They hoped for wet night breezes to come at night, but there was no breeze or fog in that wilderness. Even if wetness had fallen, without grass or trees, the hot sands would have soaked it all. So they spent the night roasted by the heat. The order to move was given again the next morning, and the soldiers walked slowly. The sun was unbearably hot, the sand got hotter, and dust blew up. Many felt their hearts sinking, and order lost its meaning. They were dropping their guns and ammunition, and staggered. By midday, many had spinning heads and fell down and curled up and remained there, dark blood flowing out of their The Thirst of death 47 noses. And the remaining blood was forced out with the last energy of their dying bodies. Some couldn’t continue marching at all and collapsed where they were to become food for the vultures. When he saw this, the Italian commander-in-chief disappeared on his mule, leaving them behind. He was afraid that they might kill him, but in fact nobody dared. Let truth be told, would a Habesha dare revolt against an Italian? It was very unlikely. But for the Italian, the Habesha was like a weak donkey, which you couldn’t kill for meat or hide and therefore would leave behind to die in the field under God’s hand. The cowardly Italian, who gained his pride and fame from the strong young Habesha, thus escaped when he knew that they were weakened and dying of thirst. But for him, they were just mercenaries; they had been bought anyway. Gradually the entire army of the...