Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="The Shaman" data-source="post: 2925064" data-attributes="member: 26473">The paras get a good look at the faces of the two Arabs in their striped robes as they draw near the kneeling figures. The elder appears to be in his thirties, the other a teenager. The family resemblance is strong.The older man looks at Normand in puzzlement, then glances back at the donkeys. Apparently able to decipher enough of the Frenchman’s pidgin, he stands slowly, hands still raised, and nods in the direction of the donkeys which are standing a dozen meters away, ears and tails twitching. The Arab keeps his eyes on Normand as he turns and takes a couple of tentative steps toward the animals. Satisfied for the moment that he is not going to be shot in the back, he cautiously calls out to the donkeys, speaking softly and holding out his hands to gently take the lead ropes of the nervous animals.As the platoon spreads out, Sgt. Müller grabs Marcel’s shoulder. “Follow me. Stay low.” The sergent-chef advances in a crouch toward the head of the column, his head pivoting from side to side as he checks the disposition of the men in the platoon. The sous-officier and the medic join Lt. Ramadier just behind where Kat and the rest of the section have taken up their covering positions.</blockquote>