Chapter Text
Caje was pretty sure that he’d seen every trick the Germans could pull in the war. Bombs in buckets, mines in every field, tricks, and traps, and every way for a man to die. He’d seen soldiers and officers of the best and worst kind. Lurking deep in the bushes around a semi-erect villa, the last thing he expected to see pull up to the observation station was a staff car in which a tall lady officer was sitting atop the rear seats. One hand on the door kept her perch, and the other leveled a gun at Doc.
Too experienced to jerk his head upright, Caje slid a glance at Little John, whose mouth had flopped open. At the sight of the woman or at the sight of Doc, he wasn’t sure.
As the staff car jerked to a halt, the woman jumped neatly down, boots sloshing into the mud with little concern for her uniform and coat. From this angle, he could see the bars denoting her as a major. Whatever confusion he felt vanished as the woman jerked open the door.
“Out.”
Doc obeyed, sliding across the seat and gingerly dismounting from the staff car. His glance slid over Caje’s hiding spot, not seeing him. “Look.”
“This villa is empty,” the woman gestured, “there are beds and cots within.”
“Ma’am.’ Doc tried.
“Do not interrupt me,” she ordered firmly, and he clamped his mouth shut. “You will set up a triage station here….?”
“Corporal Carter…Doc.”
“Set up a triage station. There will be medics joining you, as well as other men to assist.”
“I don’t,” Doc tried.
“They speak English,” the lady spoke over him. “And when the medical supplies arrive, sort and organize them. I want you to be ready for the wounded when they begin to arrive.”
“Lady, I’m a prisoner,” Doc repeated. “And.”
“You are a medic,” the officer faced the short man fully. The annoyance clear on her face cleared Doc’s of any smart response. ‘Which your command would not have made you if you did not have some measure of compassion for human life. These wounded men will need help, and am I beyond giving a damn about who gives it! ”
“I’m a medic! Not a doctor!”
“The doctor will be along shortly. What he needs are spare hands.” She snapped an order at several of the Germans unloading a truck with medical supplies. “Corporal Muller,” a bedraggled aide appeared at her side. “Will translate and assist.”
“What about my men?”
“I will consider them when the time comes.” She raised a haughty chin. “Go before I consider this insubordination.”
“I don’t even know your name.” Doc protested. Caje didn’t blame him for the shock.
“Major Dietrich,” she jerked her head to the side. “ Now! ” Doc saluted carefully, turning to watch her as he followed the German corporal into the villa. Major Dietrich nodded, watching him leave. Cracking her neck, the woman turned to scan the woods. Caje held his breath, even though he knew it was a stupid thing to do, waiting until the woman shrugged and jumped into her staff car again, pulling out of the courtyard in a cloud of dust.
As Caje watched, more Germans struggled past their hiding place. Under their watch, the villa slowly transformed into a triage and aide station. Caje could see Doc at random intervals, carrying heavy things, airing out blankets and sheets, and avoiding the many Germans giving him a hard side-eye. It was clear he was being watched and even more clear that he couldn’t get away.
“We have to tell Sarge,” Little John whispered when he felt it was safe enough. Long hours in the underbrush were wreaking havoc on his legs, but Caje nodded.
“About the medical station or the lady officer?”
“All of it.” He answered and thus began to slow extraction and retreat from the villa until they were in almost familiar territory. And when they felt comfortable, they made a break for the last place they had seen Sgt. Saunders.