10C at 7 am. Sunny.
Bowled in Scotch pairs in the AM. Last game for this year. To Victoria after lunch for a meeting then a quick visit with B and K on the way home.

Three weeks later there was a small article in the London Times about a report of a tribal uprising in central Somalia. The next day John and Jean were contacted by an army chaplain and were advised that their parents and sisters had been caught up in some tribal warfare and they had all been killed.

Chapter 10.

  John immediately withdrew from university and despite his sister’s protestations, he insisted she stay with their Aunt for a short time. Once he was satisfied that she would be taken care of he purchased a ticket to Cairo and set out on the same journey that the two of them had made such a short time earlier. Before he left he visited a gun shop and purchased two 300 Weatherby rifles, a large caliber pistol and two thousand rounds of ammunition.

  On his arrival in Moqadishu he again sought out Colonel Bromely. The Colonel gave him as much information as he had. “It appears my lad, that what ever happened was over with very quickly. From my examination of the scene everyone died quickly, there was no evidence of torture or, ahem, or ahh anything else.”

  For the first time John gave into his grief and it was some time before he regained his composure. Finally he buried his emotions and requested an escort to the mission.

  Colonel Bromely hesitated, then “You will find nothing but heartache, we have buried the remains of your family. Unfortunately due to the climate we had to do it there. There really is nothing left as even the church and their home were also torched.”

  “Please Colonel, I must do this, I have come all this way, if you cannot I will find a local guide and go on my own.”

  The Colonel walked over to the window and looked out for a few moments, he understood the young man’s position and he had the authority to continue with patrols, he mentally shrugged. Why not?   “Very well, I need a bit of a stretch myself and it probably would be good to show the colors out there. You do realize that there is no hope of finding the villains?”

  “Oh thank you Colonel, no I understand. When can we leave?”

  “We shall leave at 0500 tomorrow.”

  The afternoon sun was still filtering through the trees and vines when the small cavalcade of three Land-rovers and ten men arrived at the village.

  The collapsed frame of the burned church was the first thing that came into view, John his emotions now outwardly under firm control, said nothing. He stepped out of the middle vehicle and went first to where the residence had stood; on a signal from the Colonel one soldier followed a few steps behind. There was little left of his parents’ home and he moved on to the church then slowly approached the clinic where his parents had died. He stood silently his head bowed, his mind blank.  After a few moments he shuddered and raised his head, he turned and called to the group of soldiers that had deployed in a loose circle around the perimeter the mission clearing. “Where are they – where are the graves?”

  The Colonel spoke to one of his men, the man saluted and went to John, “This way sir, just a short distance this way.” He turned and proceeded towards the village huts.

  “We found a little knoll just off the river sir, it we cleared a spot on the north side, thought they might like to look to home sir.” He paused after a short distance and waved ahead, “Just ahead there sir. I’ll wait right here.”

  John walked on and in a couple of hundred feet, found the cleared area. It had been fenced and each of the four graves was adorned with the white crosses of the military. Names had been burned into each cross with some kind of instrument. He stood, his head bowed once more and tried to say a prayer, but nothing came to his mind. He felt no presence and as he stood there a feeling that he had never felt before started to grow and expand. It was anger and then without a twitch or a ripple in his entire body he felt an overwhelming heat engulf his body. ‘Revenge’ the word or the need consumed his brain. He tried to damp the fire within his being, but a single thought pounded in his brain; ‘they died for doing good, they died for doing good!’ Over and over the thought pounded, he slumped to his knees, his head touched the cool grass and gradually the heat of passion lessened to be replaced by resolve and composure.