I am not of that feather to shake off

My friend, when he must need me.

-Shakespeare, Timon of Athens

I regained consciousness sprawled across the packed sand of the desert floor. From the sun's position and the amount my face was sunburned, it appeared less than thirty minutes had passed since my column had been ambushed early this morning. I attempted to arise, but the searing pain in my shoulder made me sink back onto the hard sand. Apparently, I had caught a 50 caliber round whose impact had thrown me from the half-track when I was struck. I didn't remember anything after hearing the initial opening rounds and I assumed I must have been hit fairly early in the conflict.

I finally forced myself to sit up and I gingerly examined the wound. The bullet was still lodged inside and my left shoulder appeared to have been dislocated from the fall. The blood loss wasn't excessive, but I was in a tremendous amount of pain and had very limited use of my left arm. Struggling to arise, I knew I needed to immediately determine if there were any other survivors and evaluate the extent of the damage.

There were only two men besides myself still alive and they were at that, only barely. Gefreiter Voss had been hit twice and appeared to have intensive internal bleeding. Given the severity of his condition, I seriously doubted he would survive past the late morning. He might survive if he received immediate medical attention at an extensive field hospital, but the nearest one was over forty kilometers away. Unteroffizier Junger was in only slightly better condition from taking multiple hits to his torso. He was drifting in and out of consciousness, not even fully aware of the situation. It was hard to believe in my poor shape that I was the fittest survivor.

I moved Voss and Junger into the shade of a vehicle and did what I could to make them comfortable. I finally was able to stop their bleeding and I gave them a small amount of morphine for their pain. There was little else I could do for them given our situation. I used my handkerchief for my own wound to leave what remained of the limited medical supplies for my two men. If their bleeding continued, I would be forced to use rags and whatever other materials I could find for their makeshift dressings. My analytical side clearly told me they would not survive long enough for those extreme measures to be needed.

The vehicles, if possible, were in even worse shape than the men. All of the vehicles were destroyed and it would have been impossible for a unit of skilled mechanics to make even one of them remotely serviceable. The radios were shattered and completely out of service. I would not be able to cannibalize the parts from all of them to make even one working radio. Scanning the area for any other information, I saw an overturned American Jeep a short distance away still smoking. At least we had inflicted some damage to the enemy, I thought with a little satisfaction.

I made my way to the Jeep with my weapon drawn, but it was deserted and there were no casualties in the vicinity. Not that I expected any; I knew Sergeant Troy would never leave any of his men behind no matter what their condition. There were no blood marks so I seriously doubted we had hit any of his team. It seemed like there was no end in sight for his eternal luck and skill against me. And, as I also crossly noticed, the Jeep had been stripped of anything that remotely could have been of use.

"Not even so much as a pocket knife," I said out loud sarcastically. However, four men in one Jeep with extra equipment; this could hinder and slow them down. If a German column came across them it would open them up for capture, I thought analytically, still trying to make the best of a bad situation.

I returned to where I had left the surviving two men and worked to formulate a plan out of something, anything for us to live until the sun rose tomorrow. It was still morning and we had the heat of the day plus the cold of the night to live through. With no working radios or vehicles available, there was no realistic way for me to summon or seek assistance. We would need to wait to be found either by the Germans or the Allies.

I knew where our lines were, but I also knew I wouldn't be able to reach them in my current condition. Finally, I knew it would be the immediate death of the two men if I left them alone and undefended in case a group of Arabs arrived to investigate the wreckage. No, I wouldn't leave my men; we would live or die here together in the desert. Given our condition and what limited supplies we had, I estimated we had at the most two days. I probably could last somewhat longer, the remaining two no doubt less.