Collateral Damage – A Rat Patrol Fanfic (thanks to suzie2b for permission to use her anecdote from earlier story.
The Rat Patrol was enjoying a respite of sorts after months of dangerous battles and complex missions. Two of their members, Hitch and Tully, were still recovering from their most recent combat wounds.
Hitch had received several shrapnel wounds the previous week, and Tully had taken a bullet in the abdomen that still had him hospitalized, in guarded condition. Sergeants Troy and Moffitt were unscathed, at least on that last raid, and both were concerned about the two younger Rats. They shared a feeling that the stresses of the constant patrols and battles were wearing on them all, but particularly on Tully and Hitch, their two younger Rats.
Hitch was no longer in the hospital tent, but still healing physically. The usually ebullient Hitch was quiet and withdrawn, content to rest on his cot. Troy and Moffitt had awakened more than once to Hitch's shouts and nightmares. Hitch had visited Tully in the hospital, just once, and had been visibly rattled by Tully's condition. The Kentuckian was still in considerable pain. Tully's wound was now infected, he was only occasionally aware of his visitors, and was scheduled for further surgery to drain the infection later that day.
The surgeon had told him that his wound had abscessed and that more surgery to insert drains to drain the abscess was necessary. Tully's level of awareness varied, depending on when he had received his last dose of morphine, and the doctor was also keeping him partially sedated so that the constant pain would not sap all of whatever strength he had left. But he was aware enough to know that the abscess was not good news.
He was beginning to deal with the reality that he might not make it this time. He had started to write a letter to his parents thanking them for everything and telling them once again that his love for the whole family would never end, no matter what happened to him. But, he hadn't been able to get past that promise to them without getting weepy. Love and memories, the glue that kept them together, despite the miles and no matter what happened. He let the tears flow, and finally found some comfort in his prayers that he might survive to have a future – a wife, a few kids, a simple life where blood and bullets did not fly. He wanted more tomorrows, and the reality that it might not happen was very real.
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Troy sighed, walked over to Hitch still sprawled on his cot, and touched Hitch's shoulder to get his attention. "Hitch, Moffitt and I are going to go see Tully before he goes back into surgery. Do you want to come with us?"
Hitch sighed, "Yeah, I'll go with you, but can we stop at the mess hall before we go? I could use a change of scene." Couldn't we all, thought Troy, noting that Moffitt's downcast eyes were glassy and Hitch was also near tears.
Troy had to say something, "Look, we can't go walking in to see Tully looking and acting like he's already dead! Yes, he is in tough shape, but right now we need to give him our support, not make him feel worse than he's already feeling! He's always there for us, and he needs us to be there for him, no matter what happens."
Moffitt looked at them both. "Tully has always been the one who worries about us, whether we were wounded or going through a bad time. I can't tell you how often he would make me a cup of tea and just be with me after a tough mission, and he's done the same for all of us.
We've all survived this long because of our commitment to being there for each other, and he needs us now more than ever. Let's go!"
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When they reached the hospital tent, Tully's bed was empty. Fearing the worst, Troy asked the nurse where he was. "Private Pettigrew is in surgery as we speak – they took him down about half an hour ago. If all goes well, it will likely be another couple of hours before he comes back here. We'll be very busy caring for him post-op, so would you gentlemen mind coming back in four or five hours? He won't be ready for a lengthy visit, but it might be good for him to know that you're here for him, if he makes it that far…I can tell you that it could go either way. She paused, "He did tell me that if he does die, he has a letter to his parents that he wrote some time ago for just this type of situation – it's in his footlocker. He wants it sent to them if he dies…but let's hope that won't be necessary."
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Troy, Moffitt, and Hitch walked back to their tent together, gathering around Tully's empty cot. "Well," said Hitch, "should we look for that letter?"
"Not unless it comes to that," said Troy. "If Tully was here with us right now, he'd probably be asking us if we wanted to play poker."
Moffitt smiled at Troy's comment. "How utterly appropriate! Let's play in his honor. Who wants to get some snacks together? Tully usually has some candy or other goodies stashed away in his foot locker – I don't think he'd mind sharing them with us. He always has."
As they played poker, Troy noticed a change in the atmosphere. Hitch was smiling, and they were all sharing their favorite Tully stories. Hitch told them why Tully hated to use crutches, and that his own father had called him "a piece of work" when driving him home from yet another hospital visit when a daredevil stunt didn't quite work as planned.
"Yeah, Tully was funny about it – said he'd broken a leg one summer when he was 11 or 12, trying out his homemade parachute by jumping off the barn roof." He says to me, " Needless to say, it didn't work," laughing at the memory.
Troy looked at his watch. "It's getting late – let's go see if he's out of surgery." When they walked into the hospital tent, they saw two of the doctors standing by Tully's bed. His nurse saw the three visitors and walked over to give them an update on his condition. "Private Pettigrew made it through the surgery, and the surgeons were able to remove the abscess. They left a drain in the wound, as he still might have some residual infection. He's had two more units of blood, and seems stable at this time. He's still very groggy and heavily medicated, but you can say hello to him."
As Troy, Moffitt, and Hitch walked over to Tully's bed, Tully lifted one hand in a gesture of "hello," smiled slightly, then shut his eyes. "Gonna sleep now, not feeling real good, but it's okay…be better tomorrow. Thanks for coming by."
Dr. Allen walked outside with them as they headed back to their own tent. "He's a strong young man. He came through the surgery better than we thought he would, but he won't be out of the woods for a few more days. All things considered, he's doing pretty well."
Three days later, he continued to make progress. Tully was now awake, alert, and propped up in bed. The other Rats had visited him every day, the surgeon had removed the drainage tube in his belly, and he was now allowed clear liquids by mouth. Later that morning, Hitch walked in for a visit, bringing a letter for Tully from home. Tully smiled, recognizing his dad's writing on the envelope. Hitch sat in a bedside chair, waiting for Tully to read the letter. Tully always received more letters from home than Hitch did, and Tully always shared the latest news from his family.
Tully's dad, Mitch Pettigrew, had drawn a picture of a barn with a young boy soaring off the roof. Tully laughed, recognizing his dad's reminding him of a time that his dad still teased him about. Mitch had captioned the cartoon, "So, back then, the parachute didn't work, and you broke your leg. If something like that happens to you now, just remember you made it through then, and you'll make it through now. Praying for safe landings for you and those who fight with you. We love you, and believe in you and what you're doing. Love, Dad.
Tully was amazed that his dad would write this, knowing nothing about his son's most recent crash landing, but his Dad had always had an uncanny way of sensing what was on his son's mind. Hitch was teary-eyed, but trying to smile: "Your Dad wrote me a letter, too. I read it before I came here. I can't tell you what that meant to me. Okay if I write him back?"
Tully smiled, "Sure, go right ahead. He fought in France during the first World War…he knows. Don't ask me how, but he really knows."