Disclaimer: The Rat Patrol is not my property. They come out to play sometimes, then I send them home.

Life Sometimes Gets Messed Up

By Suzie2b

An American convoy had been hit and prisoners taken. Days later word filtered into headquarters that the Germans were going to move some prisoners to one of their POW camps. Captain Boggs sent the Rat Patrol to head it off and bring the prisoners back.

At the coordinates they were given, Troy and Moffitt were laying on a sand dune waiting for the trucks that would be carrying the captured troops.

Moffitt said quietly, "The intel we were given says they should've been here an hour ago. Do you think we've missed them?"

Troy said, "I don't think so. They probably just changed the timetable."

Ten minutes later a German halftrack rounded the bend in the road. It was followed by two truckloads of prisoners and one more halftrack.

Moffitt said, "Here they come."

Troy nodded. "Let's go." They hurried down to the jeeps. "Moffitt, you and Tully take that halftrack at the back. Hitch and I will head off the lead one."

Tully circled the dune to come up behind their target while Hitch went the other way to cut off the lead halftrack.

When the jeeps barreled out from behind the dune, the Germans were caught completely off guard. Troy cut down the gunner before he could even get the mounted machine gun spun around. The driver tried to accelerate to get away as the three others with him took aim to fire, but as the jeep passed in front of the halftrack, Troy threw a grenade in. After the explosion, the vehicle slowly rolled to a stop with no signs of life.

Tully took Moffitt past the halftrack with the 50 caliber blazing. The German gunner managed to get off a few rounds, but missed his target. The larger slugs of the 50 raked the side of the halftrack as they slammed through first the gunner and then the driver. Tully maneuvered around the slowing vehicle to allow Moffitt to throw a grenade into it to finish the job.

The German drivers and guards in the open backed troop haulers quickly stopped and gave themselves up. Some of the now ex-prisoners jumped out of the trucks to confiscate weapons and hold them on the new prisoners.

When the two jeeps stopped next to the first truck, Troy called out, "Everyone okay?" There were no injuries. "Get the prisoners tied up and into the back…"

A voice interrupted, "Just a minute!" A man pushed through the crowd that had gathered around. "I'm Captain Mitchell. These are my men and I'm in charge here."

"Sergeant Troy. Glad we were able to keep you and your men out of that POW camp, sir."

"Your help is greatly appreciated, sergeant."

"Now, if you don't mind, sir, we need to get going. We've been ordered to take you and your men to the base at Zuwarah."

Captain Mitchell shook his head. "No, you will escort us to Benghazi."

Troy frowned. "Benghazi? Can I ask why, captain?"

"We were a convoy on our way to Benghazi when we were ambushed."

"We can get you to Zuwarah before the end of the day. Benghazi is at least two days from here, sir."

Mitchell said, "Nevertheless, Benghazi is where you will take us."

Moffitt questioned, "If I may, sir. Your convoy was destroyed. Why is getting to Benghazi so important?"

The captain moved away from the other men with Troy and Moffitt following. When they were out of earshot, Mitchell said quietly, "I'm carrying important information via microfilm. Luckily the Germans didn't discover where I've hidden it. I was ordered to lead the convoy to Benghazi as cover for my real mission. The only ones who know I'm carrying it at this point are you two and General Mathers, who's waiting for it in Benghazi."

"Then wouldn't it be better at this point to get you to Zuwarah? From there you can be flown to Benghazi in the morning."

"I'm afraid that won't work." Without elaboration was to why it wouldn't work, Captain Mitchell said, "If I have to make this an order, I will. We are going to Benghazi."

Troy sighed, knowing he wasn't going to have a choice. "All right, captain. We'll head for Benghazi. But we're going to take just one truck. I know it'll be crowded, but it'll be easier and safer that way."

##################

That evening Hitch and Tully managed to stretch the last of their C-rations rations to feed twenty extra mouths they hadn't planned for. The four German prisoners were given cheese, crackers, and water.

After having served everyone their food on whatever conveyance could be found, Tully handed Hitch the spoon and said, "There's two bites left."

Hitch looked at it. "Nah, you go ahead."

Tully scooped up half of what remained in the pan and put it in his mouth, then handed the spoon to Hitch again. As he took it, Tully smiled as he chewed, then walked away to go on watch. Hitch shook his head and smiled as he finished off the food before he started to clean up.

As soon as the sun came up, Tully grabbed the crate of K-rations out of his jeep and started passing them out, one to a customer, and told them, "This has to last you all day." After everyone had a box, he then went to Moffitt. "Sarge, our prisoners need to understand that these have to last the day."

Moffitt smiled and took the four boxes. "I'll just take care of that, Tully. Hitch is checking over the truck. Why don't you get started on the jeeps?"

Tully nodded. "I'm on it."

Moffitt went to the truck where the Germans were in back with their hands tied in front of them and under guard. He smiled at the young private and handed him the boxes. "Give these to the prisoners." The private set the German rifle aside to give a box to each of the Germans as Moffitt explained that rations were low and that food had to last the day. "Wir haben jetzt nur ein paar Feldrationen. So vorsicht, es musst den ganzen Tag dauern."

Just then Captain Mitchell walked by and saw what was going on. He stepped up to the truck and asked, "What's going on here?"

Moffitt turned and said, "Just feeding the prisoners, sir."

The captain frowned. "You're giving them our meager rations, sergeant. Do you really think that's wise?"

"They do have to eat, captain. We'll make sure the rations stretch to get us to Benghazi."

Captain Mitchell growled, "They'd better. If I discover you've taken away food that should've fed my men … you will definitely go on report, sergeant. Keep that in mind."

Moffitt simply said, "Yes, sir." After the captain stomped away, he turned back to the private. "Is he always like that?"

"Mostly … but lately he doesn't make much sense at all."

"What's your name, private?"

"Alvin Morin. Most people just call me Al though."

Moffitt smiled. "All right, Al. Can you explain to me what you mean by Captain Mitchell not making sense?"

Al shrugged. "It's like the day we left. He was fine at first, but before the end of the day he'd begun to act a little paranoid and questioning everything anyone said or did. I was driving the lead truck and he even got on the radio to accuse me of changing course … which I didn't. He sure has been acting peculiar."

"Why wasn't the captain riding in the lead truck with you?"

"Don't know. He normally does, and he started out with me. But the next day he wanted nothing to do with me. It was like he was suspicious of me for some reason."

Moffitt asked, "How was he after you all were captured."

Al said, "At first the captain was just plain angry. Yellin' and screamin' at us and the guards. Putting blame for it all on anyone that looked at him. Then he suddenly got real quiet, sat down in a corner, and wouldn't let anyone get near him. That's where he stayed until the Germans loaded us into the trucks to take us to a POW camp."

"Did anything change between then and when we rescued you?"

"During the ride he was quiet. After you guys showed up, he took charge again like nothing had happened."

Moffitt furrowed his brow as he thought, then said, "All right, Al. We'll be on our way soon, so be ready."

Moffitt located Troy at the jeeps, where he'd just gotten off the radio. Troy looked at his fellow sergeant and said, "We may have a problem."

"You may be right. What did you hear?"

"I contacted Benghazi last night to let them know we're on our way and to let General Mathers know we have Captain Mitchell. They just called back and told me there isn't a General Mathers assigned to or visiting the base there."

"Interesting. One of his men claims the captain has been acting strangely lately."

Troy asked, "Strange how?"

Moffitt replied, "Paranoid, not trusting his men, making accusations. Private Morin said Captain Mitchell was fine when the convoy left their base, but soon started acting erratically. Morin mentioned that when we rescued them, the captain seemed normal again. And when I was giving food to the prisoners, the captain happened by and questioned the 'wisdom' of feeding them any of our 'meager' rations. Almost sounds like a mental breakdown in the making."

"He wouldn't be the first. We'd better keep an eye on him. Let Tully and Hitch know."

##################

The day passed uneventfully. At noon they stopped for a break at a waterhole. They were running low on water with all the extra men to keep hydrated.

Troy got out of the jeep and stretched as he said to Hitch, "Grab a couple of Captain Mitchell's men to help with the water." He looked at Tully. "Find someplace high and keep watch. I want plenty of warning if we're getting company."

Troy and Moffitt got the map out to check their course. They were talking about which route would be best to continue on, when Captain Mitchell joined them. "Everything all right, sergeant?"

Troy nodded. "Everything's just fine, captain. Just deciding which route is our best choice."

Mitchell frowned. "What's wrong with the one we're presently on?"

Moffitt circled an area on the map with his finger. "There's been reports of enemy sightings through here. With a truckload of mostly unarmed men, it would be better to go around any possible trouble. Might take a little longer, but we'll get there."

Mitchell looked at the sergeants suspiciously. "We're not going to Benghazi, are we?"

Troy and Moffitt glanced at each other. Troy said, "Sir?"

"Checking the map. Finding a way around 'possible trouble.' I'm not stupid, sergeant! We are going to stay on the course we've been following all the way to Benghazi!"

And then Captain Mitchell turned and walked away with Troy and Moffitt staring after him.

The highest place Tully could find was the top of the truck's cab. From there he could see 360 degrees with nothing blocking his line of sight. He looked down at the prisoners tied up in the back of the truck and wondered why no one was there watching them. Then he shrugged and decided it was easier for him to keep an eye on them than it would be to holler for someone else to do it. The prisoners hadn't tried to escape and wouldn't get far if they did.

Tully turned to look out across the desert in all directions. Seconds later a shot rang out and he whirled around to see Captain Mitchell with a smoking rifle in his hands and one of the prisoners bleeding out on the floor of the truck. "Captain…"

Startled, Mitchell looked up at Tully with a look of hatred. Before the private could react the gun came up, another shot went off, and Tully fell.

Men came running. Troy and Moffitt pushed through the crowd with Hitch behind them to where the captain was standing. They looked at the German prisoner who'd been shot and Troy asked, "What happened?"

Captain Mitchell didn't look at him as he said, "He was trying to escape. I had to stop him."

It was plain to both sergeants that the prisoner hadn't moved before getting shot.

Moffitt climbed into the back of the truck. After verifying the prisoner was dead, he asked the remaining three what happened. "Was ist hier passiert?"

Obviously shaken, they at first said nothing. Then one said quietly, "Er ging auf und hat ihn erschossen."

Moffitt turned around. "He says the captain just walked up and shot him."

Mitchell laughed rather manically. "You're going to take his word over mine?"

Another prisoner told Moffitt the captain was a crazy man. "Er ist Verrückter Mann."

The first prisoner pointed to the top of the truck's cab and said, "Und denn hat er der Wachter auch erschlossen."

Moffitt suddenly stood and headed out of the truck. "Tully's been shot!"

Troy and Hitch followed Moffitt around to the front of the truck to see Tully lying on his back, unconscious, with a dark stain spreading across the front of his shirt.

Moffitt knelt and checked for a pulse and breathed a sigh of relief when he found it. "He's alive." Then he opened the bloody shirt to see how bad the wound was. "Hitch, get a med kit and some water."

Once Troy heard that Tully was alive, he left Moffitt and Hitch to take care of him and returned to the back of the truck. Two of Mitchell's men were dragging the dead man out. Troy took the rifle from the Captain and growled, "Captain Mitchell, I'm relieving you of duty. You're not fit to command."

The captain turned to face the sergeant. "You can't do that!"

Troy just glowered at him and said, "I just did. Tie him up and put him in the truck."

Captain Mitchell's men were shocked and didn't move at first. Troy thought for moment there might be trouble, but then Private Morin stepped forward and said, "We don't have any more rope."

Troy looked down at the dead prisoner. "Use those. He doesn't need 'em anymore."

##################

When Tully opened his eyes he couldn't remember what had happened at first. He started to sit up and hissed as pain flared through his left side. A hand was on his shoulder, gently but firmly pressing him back down. Tully looked up at Troy, who said, "Just take it easy."

Tully settled back as he suddenly remembered what had happened. "Captain Mitchell shot me after he shot one of the prisoners, sarge."

"Yeah, we know. Moffitt got the bullet out of your side." Troy noticed the private rub at a sore spot on his head. "You're lucky you landed on your head, or the fall might've killed you."

Tully managed a slight smile, then sobered and asked, "What the heck happened to the captain? When he looked up at me … it was like he thought I was the enemy."

Troy sighed. "I don't know. Captain Mitchell has become delusional. He thinks he's undercover delivering microfilm to a General in Benghazi that doesn't exist."

Tully shifted and grimaced. "Why'd he shoot the prisoner?"

"The captain says he was trying to escape."

"I was keepin' an eye on them, sarge. They weren't tryin' to escape."

Troy nodded. "It didn't take us long to realize that."

Tully looked around. "We're still at the waterhole?"

"It's getting late. We'll stay here tonight and head south to a field hospital in the morning. Get you fixed up and Captain Mitchell some help."

The captain was tied up and placed in the back of the truck with the other prisoners, but not too close. There was a guard there to watch them constantly now. Mitchell refused to eat or drink because he thought he would be poisoned. He complained loudly about how Troy and Moffitt had brainwashed his men against him. He kept telling the guard, "You can't believe them! They're the enemy! I made the mistake of trusting them and look what's happened!"

Captain Mitchell's men were understandable upset about what was happening to their commander, but they also realized he was sick and needed help.

After a time, Moffitt was the first to admit he'd had enough of the captain's raving and sedated him with a heavy dose of morphine.

##################

The next day Tully was helped into the passenger seat of the truck, where he dozed much of the time as they headed for the field hospital.

When they arrived Tully was taken in to be evaluated and treated. Captain Mitchell was sedated before he was taken into medical when he again started raving about his men being brainwashed.

A doctor asked, "Do you know what's happened to him?"

Troy said, "He and his men were prisoners of the Germans. We were able to release them as they were being taken to a POW camp. He claims he's undercover, carrying microfilm to a General Mathers in Benghazi. But when I reported in I was told there is no General Mathers on base."

Moffitt added, "According to his men, the captain's mental state started going downhill not long after the convoy left their base."

The doctor sighed. "We'll do what we can before transferring him to the base hospital in Tunis."

Tully had been cleaned up, stitched, given a unit of blood, and pain killers. He was resting comfortably on a cot in the hospital that afternoon when he heard someone sit down next to him. He opened his eyes and looked at Moffitt a little blurrily. "Hi."

The sergeant smiled. "How are you feeling?"

Tully sighed. "Not too bad. I guess the doc wants to keep me at least overnight."

Moffitt nodded. "We got some news about Captain Mitchell."

"And?"

"The microfilm he claimed to have was actually a letter from his mother. Apparently, the captain's wife and children were killed when a tornado hit their home in Missouri one night. That letter and his grief no doubt started his mental decline. That coupled with being captured by the Germans … it was more than his mind could take."

Tully asked quietly, "Why the story about microfilm and a nonexistent general in Benghazi?"

Moffitt shrugged. "It's hard to say. Possibly it stems from something he once heard or read. Bringing a story to life, so to speak. Or perhaps, in his mind, being an important spy was a better reason for not being there for his family then leading a convoy through the desert."

"Poor guy. He's really messed up."

"Yes, he is. He'll be off to Tunis in a day or so. He'll get help there before being sent back to the states." Moffitt looked at the expression on Tully's face and decided to change the subject. He took a book from his pocket. "I happen to have this with me. 'The Hound of the Baskervilles'."

Tully smiled. "Sherlock Holmes?"

Moffitt nodded. "I haven't had a chance to start in yet. Care to barrow it … or would you like me to do the honors?"

Tully's smile widened. "You've got the accent for this one."

"All right then." Moffitt grinned as he opened the book to the first page of the first chapter entitled 'Mr. Sherlock Holmes' and began reading, "'Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who was usually very late in the mornings, save upon those not infrequent occasions when he was up all night, was seated at the breakfast table. I stood upon the hearth-rug and picked up the stick…'"