Respect and Honor
By AliasCWN
The attack came as a surprise. The first shot hit the driver who slumped over the wheel as the car swerved into a sand bank. A flurry of shots peppered the car, forcing Capt. Hans Dietrich to dive for the floor. One of his own men collapsed lifeless on top of him, pinning him in place. Before he could push the body free so he could reach his weapon the firing had ceased. Hands pulled the dead soldier out of the car, revealing the trapped captain.
He squinted into the sun to look up at the attackers holding rifles on him. Expecting enemy soldiers, he was surprised to find Arabs glaring at him. With a wave of a rifle, he was directed to climb out of the car. As he stood under guard, the Arabs stripped his men of their weapons and anything else of value. The bodies were left where they fell, completely disregarding any attempt at a decent burial for brave soldiers fallen in battle. The captain mourned these as he had so many others, unable to offer even the smallest bit of dignity for their sacrifice. He looked back as he was dragged away, hoping that they would be found by someone with more respect for the dead.
The Arabs tied his hands and Captain Dietrich was forced to follow them across the desert to he knew not where. Though he spoke some Arabic, their dialect was unfamiliar to him. As the day wore on he fell more and more often, finding it harder to get back on his feet each time. When they stopped in the middle of nowhere, he was too grateful for the rest to question the reason for the break. It wasn't until they began checking their weapons that he realized that something was in the air. They shoved him to the ground and tied his feet so he couldn't move before retying his hands behind his back. Then they mounted their horses and rode away. Hans considered yelling to alert their intended targets, perhaps more of his men, but he wasn't sure if they would hear him. The Arabs would surely kill him if his attempt failed, and he would have gained nothing. Frustrated, he contented himself with trying to free himself before the Arabs returned.
He heard the first shot, followed by a great many more. With a bit of relief he recognized the sound of return fire as American guns. When the 50 caliber opened up he started in surprise. He allowed himself a small bit of satisfaction. The Arabs were apparently trying to take the Rat Patrol. It was a win-win for him. If the Arabs captured or killed Sgt. Troy and his band the desert would be a much safer place for his men. If the Rat Patrol won, the Arabs who killed his men would be eliminated. He listened to the fight as he fought the ropes.
The battle lasted longer than the previous one. Dietrich had to admit that the Americans were putting up some stiff resistance. He knew from experience that they fought hard, and even harder if one of their own was in peril. He could hear both 50's rattling their distinctive clatter. It sounded as if the Arab fire was slowing. A few more minutes and the desert became quiet once again. There was one final shot and one final burst from the 50 to signal the end. They were so close together Dietrich thought the end result could have gone either way. Unable to loosen the ropes, he waited to see if the victors would appear over the dunes. It suddenly occurred to him that if the Arabs were dead, no one knew he was there.
Time dragged and the German captain had been without water for most of the day. Exhausted, he fell into a light doze.
A hand on his forehead startled him awake. He blinked into the sun to see a dark handsome face leaning over him.
"Sgt, Troy." He managed to mumble.
"Captain." The American sargent responded. He helped the German sit up. Gently he held him in place while he held a canteen to his lips. Carefully monitoring the amount of water the officer drank, he studied the sunburnt face. "What are you doing out here Captain?"
"I was attacked and taken prisoner."
"I saw that." Troy replied.
The captain realized that his hands and feet had been cut free. He nodded his thanks for the water. Troy's driver took the canteen and returned it to the jeep. He then returned and helped Troy lift Dietrich to his feet. Between them they settled him in the passengers' seat.
"So what happened Captain?" The American ask. He made no attempt to climb into the jeep himself.
"Those Arabs attacked my car. All my men were killed. I was trapped underneath one of them. By the time I got free the Arabs were there." The captain told the story slowly, his exhaustion evident. He was too tired to put on a brave front, he allowed some of his grief to leak into his tone.
"Tough break Captain. If it makes any difference, they're all dead." Troy allowed himself to feel some of the Germans' regret. If things had worked out differently he could have been mourning the death of his own men. He glanced at his driver waiting patiently for the order to move. He looked to the other jeep where Tully nursed an arm wound while Moffitt stood watch for any more trouble.
"It does help to know that Sargent." The German quietly stated.
"But." Troy could hear the unspoken word at the end of the officer's statement. He felt an odd kinship with the German at the moment.
"But they just left them there. No one to bury them. No one to take their dog tags and report their fate, Their loved ones will never know what happened to them." Dietrich explained sadly.
"Where did this happen Captain?"
Hans looked at Troy suspiciously, wondering why it mattered to the American. Deciding that the information could do no harm, he gave him the coordinates as best he could.
"You get some rest Captain. We have to move out in case there are any more unfriendlies around. We have to get Tully to a doctor before his wound gets infected."
The German nodded, murmuring his thanks for the rescue. Too tired to argue, he fell asleep despite the pitching of the jeep. The next time he awoke they had stopped for the night and were setting up camp.
"Sorry Captain, but we can't have you running around camp loose." Sgt. Moffitt led him to a sheltered spot and tied him hand and foot. Still tired, he fell back asleep. The smell of food finally woke him. He was surprised to find himself alone in camp with the injured private. He tried to make conversation but found he didn't have the energy.. The private was polite but not very talkative as he heated the meal.
The return of Troy, Moffitt and the blond driver attracted his attention. Despite the cooling temperatures, all three were sweating heavily. None of them spoke as they settled around the fire.
"Supper's ready Sarge." The injured private announced.
"Thanks Tully. Did you feed Dietrich yet?" Troy ask tiredly. He glanced at their prisoner as he ask.
"No Sarge. I was waiting until you guys got back. Figured we could all eat together." Tully answered. He busied himself scooping food onto tins for each of the men.
"Hitch."
"Got it Sarge." The blond rose and approached the German officer. With a few quick pulls he freed the ropes binding his hands and feet. The German rubbed the circulation back into his hands before climbing to his feet and joining the others around the fire. Tully handed him a plate of food before taking one for himself.
The meal was eaten in silence. No one seemed inclined to break the silence.
"I got first watch Sarge." Hitch told Troy as he finished his meal. He thanked Tully for the meal before grabbing a machine gun to begin his patrol around the camp. Tully and Moffitt offered to clean the dishes and pack away the utensils, leaving troy alone with Captain Dietrich.
Hans noticed that the sargent seemed ill at ease. Deciding to break the silence, he questioned him.
"What's on your mind Sargent?"
Troy looked at him for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a string of dog tags. Without a word he handed them to the German.
Hans looked at the dog tags in his hands. He read the names, puzzled.
"Where did you get these?"
"The place where you were attacked is just over that hill Captain. Moffitt, Hitch and I buried your men over there. You said you wanted the dog tags. I'll take you over to the grave if you want. Give you a chance to say your good-byes. You can write their folks and let them know…..well, whatever you want to tell them." The sargent hesitated after his speech, waiting for a response from the German. When the Captain didn't answer he continued. "We can wait until morning if you'd rather."
Hans stared at the sargent, not sure what to say. It was certainly not what he had expected when the American had ask about the attack.
"No Sargent. I think I would rather go tonight if you don't mind."
The sargent nodded and indicated that he should lead the way. Troy showed him the neat line of graves with helmets placed at the head of each one. They spent a few minutes there before returning to the camp. The next morning they returned to the Allied base where Dietrich was turned over to the guards as a prisoner of war. He took the time to thank each and every one of them for the care of his dead. He was allowed to keep the dog tags for the time being. Alone in his cell he made a list of each name for his own records. Later, after his escape, he wrote to all of their families, expressing his regret at their loss and telling them that each had been given a decent burial by honorable men.