Too Close?

by AliasCWN

Hitch struggles with whether he got too close to a convoy when Troy is hit.

Too Close?

By: AliasCWN

Hitch glanced over his shoulder to make sure that Troy was still hanging on. One look at the sergeant's face told him that he had to get out of there fast.

Troy was clinging to the handles of the 50, trying to stay upright. The gaping wound in his leg was turning the back of the jeep into a pool of blood. The bullet had torn a huge chunk out of the muscle before exiting the other side.

The jeep picked up speed and swerved away from the German column. Waves of blackness swam in front of his eyes, threatening to cover his vision with a curtain of darkness. The sounds of gunfire sounded hollow to him. It sounded like it was coming from a great distance and echoing off the surrounding dunes. He could hear the shells exploding around the jeep but somehow it didn't seem real.

He looked ahead at his driver, the red hat drawing his eye. The color matched his blood, only not as shiny and wet looking. It occurred to him that the thought was rather morbid, but somehow it fit. The wound seemed to be the focus of his thoughts even though he knew he should be worried about his men.

There was no pain yet, just a cold, spreading numbness that turned his muscles to jelly, making it hard to stay on his feet. As the jeep swerved around yet another shell, he lost his balance and fell to his knees. Only his grip on the handles kept him in the vehicle. The act of bending his leg awakened the nerves that until now had been silent. The moment that the leg bent, the pain announced itself; and what an announcement it was! White hot pain flared from his ankle to his thigh! He tried to cry out but his voice seemed lost in the flare of agony. All he managed was a strangled groan as his body settled into the misery he was doomed to feel until someone could give him a shot of morphine.

The gunshots were fainter now but Troy didn't know if they were really fainter or if he was just losing consciousness. He ordered his hands to maintain their grip on the handles, afraid that if he released them he would fall right out of the jeep. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized that his driver would be taking him to a safe place where they could treat his wound. He knew it, but he didn't know if the Germans would allow it. He looked around quickly, trying to spot the second jeep. The sand moving past at a sickening speed made his head spin. He had to close his eyes as his stomach threatened to rebel.

He could feel the rumble of the engine under his knees as it vibrated the tiny frame of the jeep. It seemed as if the tempo had changed, but he didn't want to open his eyes to check on their speed. Just the act of remaining in the jeep was taking all of his concentration. He was so tired, he needed to lay down. The floor of the jeep was hard but at the moment he was sure he'd have no trouble falling asleep on it. All he needed was a few minutes of rest. Once he was rested he could decide what to do next. Slowly, ever so slowly, he loosened his grip on the handles and fell sideways onto the floor of the jeep. The metal was hot and smelled of gas and oil. Their supplies and gear made it lumpy. But he couldn't think of a single thing that could have felt better at this moment. As is body settled, he let himself go; sleep was the only thing that mattered right now.

The sun was hot on his face and he tried to turn away from its glare.

"Hey Doc, I think he's waking up."

The voice was somehow familiar but Troy couldn't summon the energy to try to place it. A cool cloth touched his forehead and he sighed with relief.

"Hey Sarge, Sarge. Can you hear me Sarge?"

Troy turned away from the voice. He didn't want to wake up. The memory of the pain came rushing back. Not the pain itself, just the memory of its existence. With that memory came the memory of the reason for the pain. Slowly, cautiously, he tried to move the leg. Suddenly the pain was back, not as sharp, but definitely there.

"Don't try to move Sarge. Hey Doc, he's trying to move." He felt a hand on his knee as the voice rose to call to someone else. He sensed rather than heard the movement next to him. Again the cool cloth was wiped across his face. More voices, further away, still somehow familiar. More movement, someone moving beside him.

"Let me see. Has he opened his eyes?"

"No, but he tried to move his leg. And he turned away and groaned when I wiped his forehead."

That voice again, one he should know. And the second one, he should know that one too. The identity of the speakers would bug him until he identified them. Resigned to opening his eyes, he braced himself for the sunlight.

Little by eye, he forced his eyelids open. It didn't surprise him when the blinding sun sent slivers of pain through his head. He jerked his head to the side with a groan.

"Block the sun Hitch, the sun hurts his eyes."

Troy felt the change in heat as his face was shielded. Taking a chance, he turned his head to look toward the speaker. A thin, darkly tanned face looked back at him with a worried frown. Dark eyes studied him in detail. At first the face was blurry, but as Troy stared back, the face came into focus.

"How are you feeling Troy?"

"Moffitt?"

"Yes." The speaker replied, breaking into a smile. "Who were you expecting?"

"I don't know." Troy admitted. "I was having a hard time putting a name to the voice."

"That's to be expected." Moffitt assured him. "You've been out for quite a while. Lucky for you that Hitch got you out of there as fast as he did."

"Yeah." Troy agreed. "Where are we?"

"We found a wadi to hide in. Tully and Hitch found an oasis and made sure all of our water cans were full. We thought it safer to camp away from any water sources. The Germans know we have a wounded man and they're looking for us."

Troy tried to process all the information that Moffitt had given him. There was something that he should be doing but he couldn't think what it could be. Glancing up, he noticed Hitch shifting to keep the sun off of him. The blond looked tired and drawn.

"Is everybody else okay?"

"Yes." Moffitt smiled, glancing up at the blond. "Tully is on guard duty while Hitch was watching over you. You gave us quite a scare you know."

"Did I?" Troy glanced down at his bandaged leg. "Things are a little fuzzy but I do seem to remember being hit."

"You lost a lot of blood. The bullet went clean through, luckily without hitting the bane. You did lose a chunk of muscle. I had the devil's own time getting the bleeding stopped. You're going to feel pretty weak for a while."

"Right now I couldn't win a fight with a wet noodle." Troy admitted. He leaned his head back, exhausted from the short conversation.

"Just get some rest. I'll give you another shot of morphine later. You're going to need another dose of antibiotics too." Moffitt checked the bandages and tried to help Troy get comfortable. "Hitch, see if you can rig up something for shade; you can't stand there all day."

"Right Sarge." Hitch rushed to do as ordered.

Moffitt didn't bother to tell him to quit calling him sarge.

"Jack."

"Yeah Sam?"

"Get them home safe."

"We'll all get home safe." The British sergeant promised as Troy's eyes slid shut.

Troy nodded, too tired to reply.

"How is he?" Hitch asked when he returned.

"Weak. He lost a lot of blood." Moffitt helped Hitch pull a tarp over the side of the jeep and up to a tree. Once secured, it shaded the sleeping man.

"How long can we stay here Sarge?"

"Don't call me Sarge." Moffitt answered automatically. "We'll try to stay here a day or two. It depends on how he does and on the Germans."

"Don't we need to get Sarge back to a hospital or aid station?"

"We do." The Brit admitted. "But we can't move him until I'm sure that I have the bleeding under control. At any rate, he needs a chance to rest before we move him."

"He's going to be all right, isn't he?" Blue eyes met dark ones as the question hung between them. Moffitt was the first to look away.

"I hope so Hitch, but as usual, there are no guarantees."

"I got too close."

"What?" Moffitt looked up, surprised at the comment.

"I got too close. I should have stayed further away from the convoy." Hitch lowered his eyes and his voice dropped in despair. "Sarge was doing okay but I tried to get him closer to the trucks. Maybe he wouldn't have been hit if I had stayed further away."

"Hitch."

"No, I mean it Moffitt. He got hit because of me."

"No." Moffitt said sternly. "He got hit because one of those German gunners got lucky. You can't blame yourself. You were doing what you were supposed to do. Your job was to get us close and you are very good at your job. It's surprising that we don't get hit more often. If not for you and Tully, and your skills, we would not be able to do our jobs. It's your driving that gets us in a position to do our job, but unfortunately, it's a two edged sword. We can't have one without the other. Your skill, and Tully's, makes us hard targets to hit but nobody can guarantee our safety. You can't blame yourself."

Hitch looked away, not convinced.

"Did Troy tell you to stay back?"

"No."

"Then don't assume that you were too close. The closer we are the more damage we can do. Our orders were to destroy that convoy."

"Company coming! Heading right for us." Tully's call from his vantage point halted any further conversation.

"Hitch, help me get Troy into the jeep. You head for our lines while Tully and I keep our company busy." Moffitt was already pulling the tarp down and folding it to pad the floor of the jeep.

"No!"

Moffitt paused in his task to stare at the young private in amazement. He had never had Hitch refuse an order from him before.

"Hitch?"

"We'll get him loaded, but you need to take him back. You're the one he needs."

"Hitch, you aren't to blame."

"This isn't about blame Doc. You're the closest thing we have to a medic. I wouldn't be much help if he starts bleeding again. He needs you. You're his best chance. Tully and I can keep the Germans busy. You take Sarge and head for our lines. We'll catch up later." Hitch knelt next to Troy and helped Moffitt lift him into the jeep. "You know I'm right Doc." The blond told him as he gently placed the sergeant on the pad.

Moffitt's indecision was plain on his face.

"Tully and I can do this Doc. We'll catch up."

Making his decision, Moffitt nodded and raced for the driver's seat. "Don't take any unnecessary chances."

"Just get him home safe Doc." The blond replied.

Moffitt hit the starter and put the jeep in gear as Tully ran for the second jeep. One jeep went in one direction while the second one spun around and headed in the other.

The sound of the running battle faded into the distance as Moffitt maneuvered his jeep around the worst of the bumps in his path. Ever conscious of the delicate condition of his passenger, he pushed for speed on the smooth parts of the trail and kept his speed to a crawl when the going got rough. Twice he stopped to check the leg wound, wrapping extra gauze around it when it bled through. The further he went the more concerned he became when there was still no sign of the second jeep. Troy was groaning softly now as the morphine wore off. Moffitt decided to stop long enough to give Troy the relief that he had promised him earlier. He pulled into another wadi to check the bandages and administer the shot. The wound hadn't reopened but Troy's fever was starting to climb. Worried about an infection, he decided to push on toward the Allied lines without waiting for the others.

Meanwhile; back in the desert:

Hitch quickly explained the plan to Tully. Tully jumped into the driver's seat and had the jeep moving before Hitch could catch his balance in the back.

As the jeep spun, Hitch lost his grip on the 50 and tumbled head first into the gear in the rear of Tully's jeep. Scrambling for balance, he pulled himself around to grip the handles of the 50. Bracing himself, he climbed onto his knees and then onto his feet to sit on the spare tire. With a yell to Tully, he lowered the barrel of the 50 so Tully could remove the dust cover.

Checking the ammo supply, Hitch hurriedly loaded another belt of ammunition into the box attached to the gun. Then he cleared the chamber, ready for action.

Tully swung the jeep around the end of the dune in the opposite direction from the one that Moffitt had taken. From experience he knew that Moffitt would keep to the low ground and stay out of sight as much as possible. He needed to do just the opposite. He needed to draw the attention of the Germans to him without making it obvious. With that in mind, he began to follow a path that would let them be seen in brief glimpses as though they were trying to sneak away.

A shout from one of the German vehicles and the sound of gunfire let him know just when the enemy saw them. Hitting the gas, Tully drew their attention completely as they tried to prevent his escape.

Hitch opened fire with the 50, not really expecting to hit anything. He knew the range was too great for accurate aim but it served its purpose. The Germans were so engaged in chasing them that no one noticed the lone jeep headed in the other direction.

Tully slowed down, leaving the Germans with the false hope that they could overtake the faster jeep. Encouraged, they chased after him with total disregard for any type of plan.

At a shout from Hitch, Tully turned his jeep in a circle to run straight at a single patrol car that had separated from the rest of the column. The German driver realized his danger too late. He swung his heavier vehicle to try to return to the protection of the column. Hitch raked the car with the 50 and turned his head as the car exploded in a ball of flames. Tully was already racing for an empty space in the desert where he could maneuver and pick a new target.

Two halftracks parted from the others, eager to take on the challenge the lone jeep presented. Tully grinned as he watched them race toward him. In a well-practiced maneuver, he took his jeep right between the armored vehicles. Hitch tossed a grenade in the one to their right while Tully let one fly to land in the one to the left. The Germans, unable to fire without hitting their own men, could only dive from the vehicles before the grenades exploded. The twin detonations left both halftracks sitting on the desert floor in flames.

Tully again ran from the fight. Hitch kept the pursuit from closing in while Tully darted back and forth in front of them. He used the nearby foothills to dodge the German's clumsy attempts to cut them off. The foothills also hid his own moves enough to allow him to double back twice to attack the pursuing Germans from the rear. Their hit and run tactics helped them cripple another one of the German armored vehicles.

Finally the Germans decided that they had had enough. Calling a halt, the column commander ordered his column back the way they had come.

"Tully, they're headed back toward Troy and Moffitt." Hitch had the field glasses watching the column from the top of a dune. "Moffitt had to move slow because of Sarge."

"I guess we'll just have to find another way to get their attention."

"How?"

Tully smiled. "Why don't you drive for a while?" Tully slid over to the passenger seat and waited for Hitch to take the wheel.

"What?"

"Get me ahead of the column; someplace where I can get a clear shot." Tully pulled one of the rifles from the holster on the fender and began to fiddle with the sights.

Hitch smiled knowingly. "Got it. Hold on" He floored the gas pedal and raced to get around the column.

Ten minutes later Hitch was sitting in the jeep in a valley with the engine running. Tully lay prone on top of a dune watching the German column approach. He settled the rifle on the ridge in front of him and nestled his shoulder closer to the stock.

The German column drew closer, all the men standing in their vehicles watching for the enemy jeeps. As their eyes scanned the desert floor, expecting a motorized attack, the shot came from above. The driver of the first halftrack jerked in surprise, the brief flare of pain the last thing he knew. His body slumped over the steering wheel as his vehicle rolled on.

The reaction was immediate and loud. The German gunners opened fire, shooting at the desert around them blindly in a failed attempt to locate the hidden marksman. Tully had rolled down the slope of the dune before the shot had hit its mark. Hitch had the jeep headed away before the column commander could restore order.

"One more time Hitch." Tully said from his seat beside the blond. "This time I'll let them get past before I fire. We'll have to swing around the side and cut away from them fast."

Hitch nodded and found Tully another vantage point to use to hit the column.

The column was moving slower now. Tully watched as they sent a patrol car ahead to check all the wadis in their path. Since Hitch had come in from behind the column, there was little chance that they would be spotted before Tully could get off his shot. He kept his head low, shielding the rifle barrel so it wouldn't reflect any sunlight. This time he left the lead vehicles pass him. He waited for one of the halftracks in the middle to drive into range. Taking a careful bead on the driver, he gently squeezed the trigger.

Again the gunners opened fire without having a specific target. Again Tully was running for the jeep as soon as he fired. This time the Germans were not taken completely by surprise. Instead of milling around in shock, two of the patrol cars charged at the dune where Tully had lain in wait.

As Hitch reached a cut in the hills he found himself coming face to face with one of the patrol cars. The two vehicles were headed right for each other. Hitch yelled and ducked as one of the German soldiers pointed a rifle at them.

The expected bullet never came as Tully got off the first shots. The German dropped his rifle and clutched his chest as small red dots appeared on his shirt front. Hearing the bullets hitting the windshield, the German at the wheel ducked below his dash. His car swerved to the side when his shoulder caught the wheel and Hitch was able to steer past them. Tully kept the rest of its occupants down until they were clear.

Turning in his seat, he fired one more round for good measure. The cut in the dune was too narrow for the German driver to turn around, forcing him to continue forward until he could find the room he needed. By the time he managed to turn his car, the jeep had a good lead. Infuriated, the patrol car continued its pursuit, joined by the second one.

Tully glanced back to see them trying to close the gap. "They're still back there."

"I guess we made them mad, huh?"

"Guess so." Tully agreed with a smile and a shrug.

"Keep driving?"

"Unless you want to stop and chat."

Hitch laughed. "I'll pass."

Tully glanced at his watch. "Moffitt should have a pretty good head start. Maybe we should get back in case he runs into more trouble and needs us."

Hitch nodded and began to accelerate. At first the jeep responded as expected. Then he noticed a small hiccup in the engine. He backed off the gas and listened to the motor sounds. It sounded okay but he listened a bit longer. Just when he had decided that he had imagined it, he heard it again. He glanced over at Tully to see Tully sitting with his head cocked, listening to the motor too. The two privates exchanged concerned looks.

"Better find a place to end this." Tully suggested gravely, his ear still turned to the engine sounds.

"Yeah."

The miss in the engine got worse as they searched for a place to confront the patrol cars. Hitch was talking to the jeep, begging it to go 'just a little further' by the time they found what they were looking for. Tully sighed as it sputtered to a stop. He had been debating whether he should get out and push. Thankfully that hadn't become necessary.

"You stay with the 50. I'll take the rifle and try to draw their attention." Tully spoke as soon as the engine stopped.

Hitch nodded, knowing Tully would be more effective with the rifle than he could hope to be. "Keep your head down."

"Don't miss." Tully responded as he headed for the other side of the valley. Looking for the high ground, he chose his spot and began to dig a hole for protection. He knew he had to make every shot count, their very lives depended on it.

Hitched dug a hole behind the jeep and crawled in. If the Germans checked the jeep, he had to keep from being spotted until he could use the 50. As he waited, he let his mind go back to his earlier conversation with Moffitt. He understood what the sergeant had been trying to tell him. His mind argued that Moffitt was right; unfortunately, his heart didn't agree. Somehow, for some reason, he still felt responsible.

The rattle of the German engines announced the arrival of their company. He ducked lower, waiting on Tully. The cars stopped, suspicious of the abandoned jeep. Hitch wished he had thought to put the hood up; it might have convinced the Germans that the vehicle was disabled.

The German cars idled out of range, watching the jeep. Sweat rolled off of Hitch's face as he hoped for the best but got ready for the worst. If the German soldiers split up and approached on foot, the ambush might fail. They didn't have time for a long drawn out fight and they couldn't count on the jeep to get them out of there in a hurry. The minutes ticked by as the German in charge made up his mind. Hitch was convinced that they were going to split up. He gripped his rifle and prayed that they would drive forward, and minutes later, they did. He heard the gears grind as the German driver shifted nervously. The engine sounds grew louder as the cars approached, the occupants concentrating on the jeep.

A shot rang out, someone yelled, and the battle was on.

Tully hit the driver of the second car. As he died he pressed the gas pedal to the floor, sending his car crashing into the rear of the first car. The impact jarred the soldiers in both vehicles, sending some of them to their knees. Almost as one, the soldiers turned to face the threat of Tully's rifle.

Tully got off a second shot before he rolled for cover. The sand around him erupted in small geysers as the Germans returned fire. Ducking into the hole he had dug, he kept his head down.

The Germans, seeking shelter from his fire, ducked behind their cars. Unfortunately for them, Hitch had that side covered with the 50. Not even bothering to climb into the jeep, he aimed at the cars and raked them from front to back with the heavy slugs. With the element of surprise and the high ground, Hitch had all of the advantage over the confused Germans. His 50 jumped and jerked in his hands as he mowed the Germans down. When the big gun clicked on empty there was no one left to give them a problem.

Tully rose from his hole and made his way cautiously toward the cars. After making sure that there were no survivors, he joined Hitch at the jeep. "Are you okay?"

Hitch smiled a tired smile and nodded. "I guess we won't be using either of those cars to get home though."

Tully shrugged. "I've been thinking about that noise and the way the jeep was acting. I think I may know what's wrong."

"I'll take watch while you look at the jeep." Hitch took his rifle and headed for the nearest point to watch for unwelcomed guests.

Tully pulled his toolbox from the back of the jeep and lifted the hood. Hitch could hear him whistling a tune as he worked on the engine. The jeep started and Tully listened to it run for a minute. He stepped on the gas pedal and revved the engine. It purred like a kitten. Closing the hood, he fastened the strap that held the windshield down before calling to Hitch. "One of the spark plug wires came loose from the distributer." He explained when Hitch gave him a searching look. "It was bouncing around like my little sister riding our old mule at a trot." Tully smiled at the memory. "We're good to go. I got it fixed. It shouldn't give us any more trouble."

Tully took the wheel, leaving Hitch to his own thoughts. The blond was quiet most of the way, staring off into the distance.

"Sarge will be okay."

Hitch jumped at the comment, having been so preoccupied with his own thoughts.

"He's tough Hitch. Sarge is probably the toughest guy we know. And he had Moffitt to take care of him." When Hitch didn't answer Tully slowed the jeep and stopped. "What's bothering you?"

"Did I get too close Tully?"

Tully paused to consider the question. "Do you think you did?"

"I don't know, I didn't think so at the time. But then Sarge got hit. Maybe I did."

"Maybe it was just bad luck. We luck out so often that I guess we should expect something to go wrong once in a while."

"Sarge says we make our own luck."

"Yeah," Tully agreed. "But there's no guarantee that it's going to be good luck. My Pappy always said you never appreciate all the good things you have unless you have something bad to compare it to. Maybe this was a reminder to appreciate the good."

Hitch stared off into the distance, thinking about Tully's explanation. Tully started the jeep and continued driving in silence, his own thoughts turned toward home.

"Tully."

"Yeah?"

"Is your Pappy ever wrong?"

Tully hit the brakes and turned in his seat to face Hitch. "Not that I recall….An not any time I'd ever tell him if he were."

"That's what I thought." Hitch managed a smile that reached his eyes. "I wonder how Sarge is doing."

"I don't know but I bet we'd find out a lot sooner if you would stop bothering me and let me drive."

Hitch laughed and leaned back in his seat. "Home James….and don't dawdle." He said in his best British accent.

"Smartass." Tully muttered loud enough for Hitch to hear.

Moffitt was pacing the space in front of the medical tent when they arrived at the base. On seeing the jeep approaching he paused, his anger clear in his stiff posture.

"Where have you been?" He demanded as soon as they were within hearing.

"Is Sarge okay?" Hitch ignored his question to ask one of his own.

"He's in surgery. I'm waiting to hear from the doctors. Don't change the subject Hitch, where have you been?"

"We were kind of busy." Tully drawled. "After we distracted that column, they turned back toward you. Rather than let them discover your trail, we decided to slow them down."

"It worked too," Hitch added, "until they decided to send two patrol cars after us. They weren't giving up the chase, and then our jeep engine starting missing."

Tully took up the explanation from there. "We had to take out both patrol cars so we could take time to fix the jeep."

"We headed back as soon as we got it fixed." Hitch told him earnestly. "Honest Doc, we got here as quick as we could."

Moffitt looked from one private to the other. A simple plan to distract the German column momentarily had turned into so much more. Yet both young men had detailed the problems as just another obstacle to be overcome to get back to base. Neither of them seemed to think anything of their accomplishments. He wondered if they even realized what they had done. They weren't the boys that he had first met so long ago.

"All right, you'll have to submit a report to the Captain."

Both privates groaned at the news

"You're report, you write it." He held his ground. He secretly hoped that the Captain would appreciate their efforts too.

Just then a doctor stepped out of the surgical tent. Noticing the three of then standing by the jeep, he headed their way.

"Sergeant Moffitt?"

"Yes?"

"You're waiting on news about a Sergeant Troy?"

"Yes."

The doctor smiled tiredly. "You did a good job cleaning the wound. The fever was from shock and blood loss, not an infection. We gave him several units of blood and a heavy dose of antibiotics. You can't be too careful with the sand getting into everything." The doctor explained. "He's sleeping right now. We stitched it up and put a drain in it. He'll be in and out for a few days until we get a handle on the fever. I suggest that you get some rest yourselves and you can visit him in the morning."

"Doc?"

The doctor turned to look at Hitchcock who was suddenly looking shy. "What is it Private?"

"Would it be all right if I just sit with him? I promise not to wake him or anything. I'll just sit quiet and watch over him."

The doctor started to shake his head. "He'll be sleeping anyway."

"I know." Hitch replied quietly. "Honest Doc, that's the best time to be around Sarge. It's the only time he's not ordering me around. Please Doc?"

The doctor looked from Hitch to Moffitt. Moffitt nodded slightly. "You promise to sit quietly? No bothering him?"

"Scouts honor." Hitch swore, holding up his hand.

"All right, but if you break your word, out you go." The doctor warned him in a gruff tone.

"Thanks Doc."

"He's inside, last bed at the end of the row. Tell the nurses that I said its okay for you to be there."

Hitch nodded and hurried into the tent before the doctor could change his mind.

The doctor watched him go with a thoughtful expression on his face. Finally he turned back to Moffitt with a question in his eyes.

"He's struggling with guilt. He blames himself for Troy's injury." Moffitt explained simply. "It wasn't anyone's fault, but Hitch needs to work that out for himself. Thank you for giving him the chance."

The doctor nodded his understanding. "I hope it works out."

"It will." Tully stated positively. "He just needs a little time, and he needs to be with Sarge."

"I'll make sure that the nurses know." The doctor said, nodding at the two men and returning to the surgical tent.

"Well, shall we go get something to eat?" Moffitt asked his driver.m