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A plume of dust moving slowly on the horizon caught Jack Moffitt's attention as he scanned the road with his binoculars. He poked Tully Pettigrew, who was lying next to him, in a camouflaged blind some twenty yards from the road, flipping through the recognition book. "We're going to have company in a minute," he said. "You observe, I'll write."
"OK, Sarge," said Tully, laying down the book and reaching for the field glasses. Moffitt picked up a clipboard, unclipped the pencil, and flipped to a fresh page. Across the top of the page he wrote "DAY SEVEN" in large print. Below that he added "10 a.m." in smaller writing.
The Rat Patrol had been assigned to spend a week observing, recording and transmitting to HQ every vehicle, man, and piece of equipment being moved by the Jerries from Merzuk to Jalo. HQ would analyze the count to estimate whether the enemy was preparing for an attack and if so, what kind.
Moffitt and Tully had drawn day watch; Troy and Hitch, the night. Moffitt didn't mind; day was hot, of course, but it was easier to see. And Tully was good company. He didn't complain, he didn't natter--come to think of it, he just plain didn't talk. Moffitt had been with the group long enough to figure that Troy wouldn't be that quiet unless he were angry, and if Hitch kept his mouth shut for any length of time he was probably devising mischief. But Moffitt and Tully had settled into a kind of companionable silence that suited them both.
The column came within viewing range and Tully began reeling off the types of vehicles and the men and equipment visible. "It's another big group like we had this morning," he reported during a short break in the steady traffic. "In fact. . . ." he drew his breath in suddenly.
"What's wrong, Tully?" asked Moffitt.
"Look at that one that's limping along with the mended axle. Isn't it the same one we saw this morning?"
Moffitt accepted the proffered binoculars and looked. "That or its twin brother," he said. "Look at the one after it," he added, handing the binoculars back.
"We've seen that dented fender before, too," said Tully. "Sarge, they're running the same vehicles past us--they must be circling around behind that ridge over there."
"There's nowhere over there for them to be going," said Moffitt, frowning. "This has to be for our benefit. They must know we're here, and they want us to send back false information. If they've done this more than once already our estimates will be grossly exaggerated."
"This is our last day," said Tully. "They coulda been doing it the whole time for all we know."
"You're right," said Moffitt. "And Headquarters has been making plans all week based on these reports. They're probably already mobilizing, just waiting for our last check-in."
"It can't hurt that much if they think Jerry's over-prepared," mused Tully. "They'll just send more troops than they need, won't they?"
"It's not that simple, Tully," sighed Moffitt. "HQ has a fair idea of how much total materiel the Germans have in this area. But this is the only road being watched in this sector. They'll make their other estimates by subtracting this amount from the total. They'll send more men here, but they'll be woefully underprepared everywhere else."
Tully digested this for a moment, and a thought came to him. "If the Jerries know we're here," he asked, "why don't they come looking for us?"
"They don't want to capture us," Moffitt answered. "Not as long as we send the information they want. As soon as we indicate that we've caught on, though, we'll have outlived our usefulness." He put down the clipboard. "We've got to warn HQ. I'm going to go back to the transmitter and send a message."
"What do you bet they've got the radio unit staked out?" said Tully. "That's how they'll figure we've caught on, is when we make a transmission at an odd time."
"You're probably right," said Moffitt. "But we've got to chance it. A lot of lives are at risk, Tully."
"Yeah, like ours," grumbled the private. "Tell you what, you're not going out there alone. Let me come along and cover you. Do you think we should go and wake up Hitch and Sarge?" The rest of the Patrol was dug in some distance away.
Moffitt thought for a moment. "Come to think of it, that's what they're probably expecting us to do first--lead them right to the rest of the Patrol. But I think it's more important to send that message first, and if they do catch us, at least they won't catch the others." Tully nodded. Moffitt added, "You may have bought us some time, Tully. I don't think they were expecting us to notice so soon."
Tully flushed at the compliment. "Recognizing revenuers' cars in disguise kept my family out of jail more'n once," the young moonshiner said.
The transmitter was in a little sheltered area in a pile of rocks near the side of a hill. Moffitt and Tully made their way carefully around the hill, sticking close under a rocky ledge, until they reached a spot just across from the transmitter. The same irregular landscape that gave them cover could also be hiding German soldiers, just waiting for them to make a move.
Moffitt looked at Tully. They would just have to make a run for it. Tully nodded, and they dashed out.
As soon as they broke cover, a half-dozen German troops appeared from over the nearest hill. They made it to the transmitter with bullets pinging at their feet. People were yelling in German and English to get away from the radio. "Start sendin', Sarge," said Tully, moving to stand between Moffitt and the Germans. "I'll try and hold them off."
Moffitt began raising the antenna and switching the set on. There was a burst of machine gun fire and out of the corner of his eye he saw Tully fall. He steeled himself not to react and kept his attention on the radio, but a more perspicacious soldier fired into the transmitter unit, which crackled, spit sparks, and went dead. Moffitt tore off the headphones and threw them onto the useless radio, worried that Tully had been wounded trying to buy him time, furious that it had been in vain.
Ignoring the soldiers who had begun to crowd around he knelt beside Tully, putting a hand on his shoulder. The private was sitting up, grimacing and holding his left leg just above the knee. There was blood seeping from between his fingers, but not a lot. "How is it, Tully?" Moffitt asked.
Tully managed to smile. "If they were aiming to kill they'll be disappointed."
Moffitt looked up to see a German officer coming up to them. "Dietrich!" whispered Tully. "I shoulda guessed."
The officer looked coolly down at them. "So, we have caught a Rat in our trap!" he said in lightly accented English, eying Tully with recognition. "And what is this? A new rat?" Moffitt was silent. Dietrich turned to one of his men. "It's a shame we'll have to kill his friend if he doesn't talk," he said casually in German.
Moffitt didn't react. Troy had warned him they would try to trick him to see if he understood German.
"You're an unknown quantity to them. I'd like you to stay that way as long as possible. Try not to let on that you speak German. Or French, or Arabic, or Russian, or whatever else you speak."
"I don't speak Russian," Moffitt had said, amused. Troy grunted in acknowledgement. "And I don't read it very well at all." Troy had laughed and hit him with his hat.
Dietrich waited for a moment, but getting no reaction he shrugged and went on in English. "You are now my prisoners. You'll come back with me to camp for processing before we send you to a POW facility." He turned to a nearby guard. "Get a stretcher for that one. We'll put them both in the second truck." He looked down at them again. "Your name please, Sergeant," he said pleasantly.
Moffitt got to his feet and answered. "Jack Moffitt," he said. Something about the captain's bearing inspired him to add a crisp, "Sir."
Dietrich seemed pleased. "Yes, Intelligence informed us of your assignment to the Rat Patrol. We make it a point to keep up with that particular unit as well as we can. I'm sorry your career with them has to be so short."
"We all have disappointments to bear, sir," said Moffitt.
Dietrich stared at him. He'd expected the brash defiance the Rat Patrol was known for, and he was getting dry British reserve. He reflected on the scanty information in the hastily researched file on the newest Rat. Apparently the young man had distinguished himself in demolitions training. Somehow he didn't think that another expert in blowing things up was what Troy needed.
The guard returned with the stretcher and a medic, who examined and bandaged Tully's leg. "Let's move out," said Dietrich. They made their way back to the convoy, two guards carrying the stretcher, two more guards aiming guns at both Tully and Moffitt. They were loaded into the back of a truck and the convoy started back to the camp.
When they arrived, the guards reappeared and took Tully and Moffitt to a tent in the middle of the compound. No daring rescues from just inside the perimeter, thought Moffitt ruefully. There were a couple of bunks and a couple of chairs. The guards with the stretcher dumped Tully on one of the bunks, folded the stretcher and put it in a corner, and left; the others went outside to stand watch.
Moffitt dragged a chair over and sat down beside Tully's bunk. He inspected the bandage briefly; it seemed to be a neat job. The private's face looked pale and weary, but stoic; it was hard to tell if he was in pain. "How do you feel?" Moffitt asked him.
"Tired," said Pettigrew, sitting up despite his answer. "Sarge, we gotta send that message. We're gonna have a hard time doin' it from in here."
"I know," said Moffitt quietly. "Look, don't worry about that now, Tully. We'll find a way, I'm sure. You need some rest." Tully lay back obediently and closed his eyes, only to open them a moment later as Dietrich came in.
The captain settled himself comfortably in a chair and regarded them both with some curiosity. "It was an interesting idea, to watch the road to estimate our troop movements. But as you were so easily deceived, it seems not to be a workable idea after all."
Moffitt shrugged. "We tried."
"And failed." Dietrich pulled a cigarette from his pocket and held it out. Moffitt shook his head. Dietrich took out a lighter and lit it for himself. "Nor did you succeed in warning your headquarters that your intelligence had been compromised. No doubt they'll be suspicious when you don't check in, and may even decide not to follow up on the information, but that is not our primary concern." He blew out a stream of smoke. "We didn't think we could deceive you for long."
"Then what was your intention, if I may ask?"
"To convince you to discard the idea." Dietrich shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to say more. The road watch would have been very dangerous to the Germans if it had worked, and he was relieved to have eliminated it. He decided to change the topic. "So tell me, Sergeant, how did you wind up with the Rat Patrol? You seem a little. . . overcivilized."
Moffitt couldn't help smiling at that. He had the strong impression that Troy felt the same way. "Maybe they wanted to add a little class to the outfit."
Tully lifted his head. "Don't listen to him, Captain, he's just another pretty face."
"Sergeant Troy doesn't need another pretty face, Private," said Dietrich, amused despite himself. "Nor does he really need another demolitions man." He took a long drag on his cigarette and continued, thinking out loud. "Troy already has what I wish I had under me: men with initiative, imagination, and loyalty."
"Gee, thanks," said Tully in a voice somewhere between sarcasm and surprise.
Dietrich ignored him and went on. "To round out his unit, Troy needs some kind of resource man. Someone who knows the desert, perhaps, or someone who speaks a language or two, like German or Arabic."
Moffitt forced himself to meet Dietrich's eyes with unconcern. "It's a shame the Allied personnel division can't hire you as a consultant," he said. "You seem to have a knack for these things."
Dietrich was enjoying the banter more than he cared to admit, but he realized it wasn't getting him anywhere. And it didn't really matter anyway; whatever the new Rat's qualifications, he was soon to be an ex-Rat. Dietrich stubbed out his cigarette. "I'm afraid a rescue from your friends is out of the question. Our perimeter security is very tight, and I have just posted a fresh guard outside. You may as well settle in for a comfortable stay."
Moffitt pointed to his bunk. "Then would you remind the concierge that I'd like breakfast in bed tomorrow?"
"While you're at it," added Tully, "tell him to send up some champagne and a couple of dancing girls."
Dietrich shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile, and left. On his way out, he paused to speak to the guard outside in German. The men inside the tent could just hear his words. "I'm going to separate the prisoners to cut down the likelihood of escape and to make any rescue attempt more difficult. You don't speak English, do you? No? Good. They don't speak German, either. I'll send someone with a car in a little while to take the wounded prisoner to the field hospital down the road."
"Jawohl, Herr Hauptmann," said the guard. The sound of Dietrich's footsteps faded away into the distance.
"Did you hear that, Tully?" asked Moffitt.
"I heard it," said Tully. "Didn't understand it."
"I think I can get us out of here if I can only get out of this tent."
"This be any help?" Tully asked, pulling a knife from a hidden sheath in his boot.
"Yes, precisely. Thank you," said Moffitt. He moved to the other bunk and begun rolling and stuffing blankets until it looked vaguely as if someone were sleeping there.
"Aw, that's not going to fool anybody," said Tully.
"People see what they expect to see," said Moffitt. He arranged his hat on the pillow and stepped back to admire his handiwork. Then he moved to the back of the tent, cautiously slit the fabric, watched for a moment, and slipped out. A guard was walking the beat with his back to Moffitt; seconds later the guard was unconscious and Moffitt was donning his uniform. Next order of business was to swipe a car. Faking a confidence he didn't feel, he simply approached the motorpool matter-of-factly, climbed into a vehicle, and drove it away. No one challenged him.
He pulled the vehicle up in front of the tent where he and Tully were being held. He saluted the guard out front and called to him in German, "Captain Dietrich sent me to take one of the prisoners to the field hospital."
The guard nodded and jerked his thumb behind him. Moffitt left the car running, jumped down and sauntered in. Tully started up, but Moffitt put a finger to his lips. "Climb on the stretcher and play 'possum," he whispered, "or they'll make me tie you up." Tully did as he was told and shut his eyes. "Help me with this stretcher, will you?" he called outside to the guard.
The guard came in. Tully expected Moffitt to knock him out and take his gun or something, but the English sergeant merely waved him to one end of the stretcher.
The guard glanced over at the other bunk. "What about that one?"
"Sshh! Don't disturb him," said Moffitt. "Think how he'll worry when he wakes up and his friend is gone, eh?" The guard chuckled. The two of them carried Tully out and parked him in the back of the open car. Moffitt climbed into the front and drove away with a cheery wave.
Five minutes later another car drove up. "I'm here for the wounded prisoner," its driver announced.
"But he's already gone," said the guard. "I helped take the stretcher out myself."
"What?!!" exclaimed the driver. He and the guard went into the tent, found the bundled blankets and the slit in the back. "You fool! You let them get away! You helped them get away!"
"But Herr Hauptmann said they didn't speak German!"
"Well then, it's going to be your privilege to inform the captain that he was wrong." The driver made a mock bow and an "after you" gesture toward the exit. The guard gulped and went ahead.
But the dressing-down he expected didn't come. The captain wasn't in his office, or in his quarters, or indeed, anywhere to be found. He made his report to the lieutenant on duty, who assured him he would be punished in good time, and was dismissed.
Moffitt drove out of the camp without being challenged and turned onto the main road with a sigh of relief. Tully sat up and leaned over the back of the front seat on the passenger side. "Nice trick," he said.
"If it worked," said Moffitt grimly. "We're not out of the woods yet."
And indeed, as they came around a curve they found their way blocked. There was a half-track full of soldiers with all their weapons pointing at two members of the Rat Patrol, and there out front was Captain Dietrich, looking very pleased with himself.
Moffitt stopped the car. Dietrich walked slowly over and stopped a few feet away, gun in hand. "So. . . ." he said. "It appears you have a Rat who speaks German after all."
Tully said, "Makes us even, doesn't it? You've already got a German-speaking rat on your side. Name of Adolf."
Dietrich didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he said calmly, "Out of the car, gentlemen. Hands over your heads." He took a few steps backwards to be out of the way.
There was a sudden roaring sound from the road behind them. A jeep came careening around, Hitch taking a sharp turn on two wheels around the half-track, Troy's machine gun spitting bullets as they made their first pass. Some of the men in the half-track fell, dead or wounded; the rest ducked. One brave fellow went for the half-track's machine gun only to be shot down. Dietrich hit the dirt as soon as the jeep appeared, rolled and fired some shots at it, but they went wide of its erratic path. Moffitt immediately revved up his car and took off down the road. Troy and Hitch circled the half-track once more and then followed. Dietrich sprang to his feet and fired after them, then went to see to his men.
Moffitt slowed down to let Troy get ahead of him, then followed him to where the other jeep was hidden. Troy pulled up, climbed out and came over to look at the German vehicle.
"I see Dad let you borrow the car."
Moffitt recognized this as some sort of American humor and answered in kind. "He was a little upset that I didn't ask permission." Troy grinned. Moffitt added seriously, "Tully's wounded. Dietrich had a medic look at him but we should probably get a second opinion."
Troy nodded to Hitch, who climbed into the back of the car and began looking at Tully's leg. Moffitt got out of the front and walked over to his jeep with Troy. "We've got to get a message to headquarters immediately," he said.
"I told them the Jerries found out about our little road watch."
"It's worse than that," said Moffitt, and explained about the exaggerated figures. Troy whistled and began helping him start up the R/T unit in the jeep. Moffitt explained the situation to the contact at the other end, listened for a few minutes, then signed off.
"We got to them in time," he said. "They hadn't yet launched the offensive they were planning." He looked at his watch. "In fact, we had a whole seventeen minutes to spare." He looked back up at Troy. "That was a nicely timed rescue. Thanks."
Troy shrugged. "Forget it."
"Dietrich found out I speak German," Moffitt confessed, rummaging in his bag for a proper uniform.
"I guessed." Troy pointed to the German uniform that Moffitt was taking off. "Decided to give you enough rope, eh? Good thing he has a flair for the dramatic. If he'd kept you inside the compound we'd have had a hard time getting you out through that tight security. But he couldn't resist letting you think you'd made it and then pouncing at the last minute. Which left him open to our attack." He scratched his head thoughtfully. "The man has style, you've got to give him that. But this time it worked to our advantage."
Hitch joined them. "How's Tully?" asked Troy.
"He'll be OK, but we should get him to an aid station." Troy nodded and Hitch turned to Moffitt. "Tully says you got one of the krauts to help carry him to the car so you could escape. I like that, Sarge."
Troy clapped Moffitt on the back. "Looks like Dietrich's not the only one with style," he said. "C'mon," he said, raising his voice so Tully could hear, "let's get that malingerer to a doctor." Moffitt climbed back into the car while Troy and Hitch each took a jeep. "Move out!"