When Honor and Duty Collide
By:AliasCWN
Chapter 1
The tall German captain paced his office restlessly. Occasionally he would glance down at the report placed squarely in the center of his desk. His arch enemy, the Rat Patrol, had been spotted in his sector only yesterday. Headquarters had been very specific; the supplies currently stored on his base must get through! They would accept no excuses, the convoy had to successfully deliver the supplies or he would be transferred to the Russian front. The responsibility for the delivery sat squarely on his shoulders.
His eyes went to the clock ticking loudly on the wall. The convoy had been gone for nearly two hours. Why hadn't he heard any news yet? He had sent his latest second-in-command, Lieutenant Braun, and a convoy of decoy trucks to try to capture the enemy. Had that elusive team of combined American and British soldiers managed to destroy his entire convoy? Had the convoy missed them altogether? He shook his head at that thought, it was highly unlikely. The Rat Patrol had proven over and over again that they had a knack for locating his trucks. Perhaps they were in the area for another reason. That thought brought him up short. What other reason would bring them to his sector at this particular time? No, they had to be after the convoy; so why hadn't they hit the decoy yet? What were they waiting for? Did they know? Maybe he should have commanded the decoy. Perhaps Troy and his men had realized that something was wrong because he wasn't heading the important convoy himself. They would know how important the supplies were to the German forces.
The captain glanced again at his clock; only five minutes had passed since the last time he looked at it. It felt like an eternity. He hated the waiting, but like any good officer, he knew it was sometimes unavoidable. Waiting was a part of war, necessary at times, harmful at others. He hated not knowing which it was even more than he hated the actual waiting. Would it work? Had he taken enough precautions? Could his men carry out his orders to completion?
There were a lot of new men in the convoy. Many of his more experienced men had been transferred to the commander who was leading the current push against the Allies. He regretted sending new men against the Rat Patrol but he had had little choice. Lieutenant Braun, the convoy commander, had a good head on his shoulders. What he lacked in experience he made up for in intelligence. Dietrich hoped that he would stay calm in battle and use that intelligence to keep his men alive. Troy and his men had flustered more than one good officer. The tactics they used were not the conventional methods most German officers were trained to fight. Dietrich, an amateur history buff, likened them to the tactics of the Native Americans in the early days of the United States. He had always found that period of American history to be particularly interesting. Perhaps that was why he was more successful against the Rat Patrol than most of the Afrika Korp's officers who had the misfortune of drawing their attention.
He looked at the radio sitting silently in the corner of his office. Why wouldn't it crackle to life and relieve him of this tension? Was it broken?
"Corporal, test the radio; I want to make sure it is working."
The radio operator looked up from the code book in front of him in surprise. "It was working when we brought it in here Captain."
Dietrich flushed. "Try it again; perhaps a wire came loose while you were moving it about."
The radio operator nodded and dutifully tested the radio. "It's working just fine Captain." He answered somewhat hesitantly.
The captain sighed. "Very well Corporal, continue to monitor it for any incoming messages. I am going to step outside for some air."
The hot desert sun was beating down on the porch in front of his office but Dietrich hardly noticed; he was too preoccupied with the lack of news from his convoy. An earlier report came to mind. A week earlier a patrol from another base had reported a run-in with the pesky little unit. A gunner on one of the halftracks had reported wounding one of the men in the rear of the fast moving jeeps. The report couldn't be verified because no body had been found. That fact alone did not surprise Dietrich. Even if one of the members had been killed, the others would try to take the body with them. He had seen firsthand how quickly they reacted when one of their team was wounded. According to the report the American's body had fallen into the jeep instead of falling out onto the ground. The others hadn't even had to retrieve it. Dietrich knew that both gunners were sergeants but the report had not been clear as to which one had been hit.
The heat finally registered and the captain decided to return to his office. He was beginning to believe that the report was based on fact rather than optimism. Maybe one of the sergeants had been hit and the Rat Patrol was temporarily out of action. Then he remembered the report on his desk and that brief hope quickly faded. No, they had been spotted in his sector, they were still active. That thought brought him back to his earlier question; why hadn't they attacked his decoy convoy yet? He glanced at the radio again but it remained ominously silent.
When the burst of static crackled in the silent room Dietrich jumped in surprise. He jumped to his feet and was around his desk standing next to the corporal before the radio operator could fine tune the signal.
"Don't use headphones; I want to hear it!" He ordered anxiously.
The corporal nodded and removed the headphones with one hand while he adjusted the dial with the other.
Five minutes later Dietrich had a whole new set of worries. Now he paced his office and waited for the survivors of the attack on the convoy to return. He tried to work on his reports but the figures kept getting jumbled in his head. Reading reports was not any easier; he just couldn't concentrate. Finally he pushed the papers aside and called for his clerk to file them.
The clock on the wall said it was time for lunch. He hadn't even realized he was hungry until he noticed the time. Rising from his desk he decided to eat his lunch with his men rather than have it delivered to his office. The office was feeling entirely too small with everything he had on his mind.
An hour later his stomach was full but he had little recollection of what he had eaten. Talking to his officers had distracted him for a while but they had all gone back to their duties, leaving him alone with his jumbled thoughts and worries. He could have made up some excuse to bring one of them back to his office but it would have been a waste of valuable time. They had things to do and he wouldn't have been able to get any real work done anyway. He watched them walk away chatting among themselves as if this were just another day; and for them it probably was. Getting that convoy through meant a lot to him and the success of his trap was essential.