For ten long, hot years the Foreign Legion and native troops have shuffled over the sand waves and stony wastes of the Moroccan Desert in "the war that never ends." The French War Ministry has steadily issued dispatches calling it "a campaign of pacification," noting "resistance of rebellious tribesmen." Actually fierce, Berber horsemen have been fighting a costly war of thrust and ambush, much like the Indian wars of the western U. S. last century. The Berbers are a white race occasionally producing a blue-eyed blond. Unlike the Arabs who once conquered them, they are honest and straightforward. Their active, often pretty women go unveiled, enjoy more rights than Arab women. Remembering that they thrice conquered Spain, 25,000 nomad Berbers have been unable to accept the defeat in 1926 of their leader Abd-el-Krim. Brave, pious, made ferocious by constant pursuit, they have enlisted a mixed crew of bandits and murderers from the mountains, massacred many an unwary French detail. Against them the French have plodded remorselessly under tall, spectacled General Andre Hure who sends home terse casualty lists, plods on.