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Minute after minute passed and the German pilot seemed to have no intention of turning, and Robert, with one eye on the fuel gauge, was just considering whether he should abandon the race and turn back toward the convoy, where he was probably needed. If it hadn’t been for the water jug that filled up daily with cool, fresh water, he might have thought it was just a figment, but so? He had to think urgently whether he should choose to parachute or look for a place to land. He could splurge, so after drinking his fill he poured a generous stream of water over his head and face. She felt your pain and reacted. It had gotten cold overnight and he kept shivering, but he finally managed to fall asleep, but was completely numb in the morning. He tried to get up, but he couldn’t keep on his feet and collapsed back on the sand. The shady path was out of sight, but after only a few kilometers he saw the gray streak of the road to Tobruk in the distance.