Three men searching for oil
in the Libyan Desert
were driven into an abandoned Italian fort
by a terriffic sandstorm.
They huddled beside the wall
and protected themselves
as best they could.
The storm cleared
and they set about preparing some dinner
when one of them whispered,
"be quiet, I hear something."
The men stood still and listened,
and they could faintly hear
a male voice
singing an operetic tune;
the notes seeming to drift across the sands
and remaining walls of the destroyed bastion,
as the sun sank into the desert outside.
All at once a shot rang out.
The men dove for their weapons.
A search could not produce anyone or anything.
"It must be our nerves," one laughed,
"after all, it is Halloween."
The other men just smiled.
A few years later,
the man who had thought it was nerves
was talking to an old time resident of Libya.
He mentioned the fort
but not the song and gun shot.
"I know the place,"
the old Italian settler said,
"it is Radante Mesurata.
The fort was massacred in 1911 by Libyans."
"The Captain in command
was the son of a general
and an opera singer.
And although he had a beautifl voice,
he chose the army for his fathers sake."
"The Arabs came over the walls
near sundown on All Saints Eve that year."
"They said he was the last hold out,
locked inside the commandants office.
And as they closed in on him
he began to sing.
From their later description,
it seemed to be the Death Song from Hamlet."
The old man thought for a moment,
then added,
"and when he finished the aria,
he shot himself."
