Disclaimer: The Rat Patrol is not my property. They come out to play sometimes, then I send them home.

Authors note: This one's for churchlady63.

Heavy Metal

By Suzie2b

It was always a risk. One that each of them took every day they fought in the desert. Sure they'd all been injured at one time or another, but usually it was Tully that attracted the stray bullet. He seemed to have a knack for it. In an odd way, he didn't mind as much as you'd think. Tully always felt it was better him than one of his friends.

But this time it was Moffitt that caught the bullet. The moment Tully realized the sergeant had been hit he pulled out of the firefight and behind a hill to take cover. He stopped and jumped out of the jeep in time to catch his injured friend as he fell, unconscious, out of the back. Tully carefully lowered Moffitt to the ground and knelt beside him to open his jacket to reveal a blood-soaked shirt. Tully tore open Moffitt's shirt and began to put pressure on the badly bleeding abdominal wound. "This isn't right, sarge. It's supposed to be the other way 'round."

By the time Troy and Hitch got to them, Tully had the bleeding under control and was applying a field dressing. Troy knelt across from him and asked, "How bad?"

Tully replied, "He lost a lot of blood before I got it under control. He could be bleeding internally. He needs a doctor."

"Think we can move him?"

"I wouldn't advise it, but we don't have a choice."

Troy nodded. "Right. Hitch, get on that hill and keep watch. Tully, you and I are going to make a stretcher." He stood and looked around. "We need a couple of poles. Check out those trees."

Tully raced to where several trees were growing. As he searched for two branches that were of a good length and diameter, Tully thought absently, "There must be an underground water source keeping these trees alive. Have to keep it in mind."

When he had what he needed, he quickly joined Troy back at the jeep. Tully laid the poles on the blanket Troy had spread on the ground next to Moffitt. He folded the blanket over the poles as Troy appeared with a roll of duct tape, which they used to secure the blanket.

Hitch came down off the hill and said, "There's nothing out there, sarge. That German patrol must be limping back to base."

Troy said, "Good. You and Tully go get some more branches. We'll put 'em across the width of the jeep behind the seats to help support the stretcher."

Soon the branches were in place, held there by the seatbacks. The radio on one side of the jeep and the jerry cans on the other would keep things from moving around. They were preparing to lift Moffitt onto the stretcher when he groaned and opened his eyes. Tully looked down and said, "Just stay still, sarge. We're going to get you to a doctor."

Moffitt whispered, "Pain…"

"Yeah, I know. I'll give you some morphine as soon as we get you moved."

##################

The rest of the day moved as if it were in slow motion. Tully drove the jeep with Moffitt laying behind him. He hadn't driven this carefully since the time they had to transport Lieutenant Winters' newly made and very volatile bombs to blow up a radar station. Try as he might Tully couldn't miss every bump and when Moffitt groaned in pain, he winced with sympathy and vowed to be more careful.

When it got too late to go any further, they stopped for the night. After making sure Moffitt was as comfortable as possible, Troy joined Hitch and Tully for a meal of canned chicken and vegetables. Hitch handed the sergeant a steaming plate of food and asked, "How's he doing, sarge?"

Troy took the plate with a sigh. "As well as can be expected."

Tully picked at his food. "How much further to the field hospital?"

"Too far. In the morning we'll keep going until we get in radio range. Then I'll call for an ambulance."

Hitch said quietly, "Can he hang on that long?"

Tully set his plate aside and stood up, looking at the man on the stretcher. "He has to." Then he picked up his machine gun and went out on watch.

A few minutes later Troy was standing next to Tully. He took the gun and placed a packet of graham crackers in his hand. "You have to eat something."

Tully sighed as he opened the crackers. "It shoulda been me."

"Why?"

"Because I don't like it when it's one of you."

Troy smiled a little. "I know. We all feel that way. We try to blame ourselves for what we can't control."

Then they fell silent. Troy holding the machine gun as Tully munched on graham crackers, both lost in their own thoughts as they stared out at the dark desert.

##################

By the time the sun came up Moffitt had a fever. Tully gently cleaned the wound and applied more sulfa before putting on a clean dressing. Hitch stopped by and asked, "How is he?"

Tully frowned worriedly. "He's got a fever. I've been keeping the wound clean and using sulfa, but I think he's getting an infection anyway."

"As long as that bullet's still in him, there's not much we can do to prevent it."

Moffitt's voice was barely a whisper when he said, "You're doing a fine job, Tully."

Hitch smiled. "You're awake."

"For the moment."

Tully asked, "How's the pain? I've been giving you regular doses of morphine."

Moffitt managed a small smile. "Dull ache … nothing more. Feel a bit chilled though."

Tully adjusted the blanket and tucked it around the sergeant. "You've got a fever. Just rest. They'll fix you up at that field hospital."

It was another day of moving slowly as well as avoiding German patrols. They stopped again at about 1600 hours to check if they were in radio range of the hospital and they finally were. Troy explained the situation and gave coordinates. Medics with an ambulance were dispatched. With a relieved sigh he told Hitch and Tully, "There's a waterhole a few miles ahead. We'll meet the ambulance there."

Relief was etched on both privates' faces as Hitch asked, "How long before they get to us?"

"It'll take a while. It'll probably be dark. We may have to spend another night out here."

##################

The afternoon wore into evening as they waited and watched for the ambulance. After dinner, Troy went on watch while Hitch and Tully cleaned things up and kept an eye on Moffitt.

Tully was sitting with Moffitt, dampening a kerchief with water to place on the sergeant's fevered brow. Hitch stowed the last of their mess kit in the other jeep before he joined Tully.

They sat there silently for a time, then Hitch said quietly, "You know, if we had flak jackets this wouldn't have happened."

Tully looked at his friend curiously. "What's a flak jacket?"

"It's a vest with steel plates sewn into it. Bullets just bounce right off." At the look on Tully's face, Hitch said, "It's true. I read about it in a magazine my mom sent. The RAF is using them to protect their aircrews from debris and shell fragments from German antiaircraft guns."

"Why call it a flak jacket?"

Moffitt said softly, "'Flak' is an abbreviation for the German word 'Fliegerabwehrkanone'. It means 'air-defense gun'. Therefore, a flak jacket is a vest that protects you from the Fliegerabwehrkanone."

Hitch smiled. "He's a fountain of knowledge even when he's sick and wounded."

Tully smiled. "Why don't they just call it a 'flak vest' then?"

Moffitt managed a bit of a smile. "Because 'flak jacket' sounds better."

Troy appeared next to the jeep. "Looks like your ride's nearly here, Moffitt. They're just a few minutes out."

Troy, Hitch, and Tully watched as the medics went to work. They started Moffitt on plasma and penicillin after they evaluated his condition. As soon as they felt he was stable enough, he was moved to one of the stretchers from the ambulance and loaded inside.

Troy asked one of the medics, "Are we moving now or in the morning?"

"We'd prefer to wait until morning, but with that infection the sooner a doctor sees him the better."

##################

After surgery to remove the bullet and repair the damage to his intestine, Moffitt was on the mend. Once his fever broke, he slept for the better part of three days.

Troy, Hitch, and Tully could breathe easy again knowing their friend would recover and return to the unit again. Tully walked into the mess tent for lunch and sat down with Troy and Hitch.

Troy asked, "How's he doing?"

Tully smeared catsup on one of the hotdogs he'd picked up. "He was sleeping again when I left. Doc thinks he'll be able to be transferred to the base hospital at Ras Tanura in about a week."

"Okay, I'm leaving you in charge of Moffitt."

Tully grinned. "Oh, he's gonna love that. Where are you and Hitch going?"

Troy said, "We're heading for base to file our report with Captain Boggs. We should be back in a couple of days."

Tully chewed and swallowed. "Sarge, have you heard of flak jackets?"

Troy nodded. "I've heard of 'em."

"What do you think of them?"

"They're heavy, hot, and would be impossible to move around in. Why?"

Hitch said, "We were talking the other day while we were waiting for that ambulance. I said that Moffitt wouldn't have been shot if he was wearing a flak jacket."

Troy smiled slightly. "It's a good idea in theory."

Tully said, "Hitch mentioned they're being used by the RAF to protect their plane crews."

"Yeah, but those guys do their fighting sitting down. We have to be able to move fast without being weighed down. I doubt flak jackets are a good fit for us."

"But if it could give us some protection…"

Troy said, "Look, like I said, it's a good theory … but do really want to be wearing a heavy metal vest when it's 120 degrees?" Hitch and Tully both shook their heads. "So, we just keep doing what we're doing the way we're doing it. And remember…"

Hitch looked at the sergeant curiously. "What's that, sarge?"

"We don't take flack off anyone."