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

Six Hours Away

By Suzie2b

The Rat Patrol was more than 400 kilometers behind enemy lines—the furthest they'd ever been. It was supposed to be a recon mission to map the whereabouts of Axis Forces ahead of High Command's go ahead for a big Allied push.

They had been out there for three days, crisscrossing the desert and trying to stay out of sight of enemy patrols. Their luck held until day four, when they were spotted by a German patrol.

The halftracks came out of the cover of the scrub just as the jeeps sped by. Hitch and Tully floored it as Troy and Moffitt got into the back to man the 50 caliber machine guns. The running gun battle went on for several miles before the Rat Patrol got the better of the Germans, destroying three of the five halftracks and leaving the others to run away.

The jeeps circled the smoldering wrecks to see if there were any survivors. Not seeing any movement, they stopped and Troy said, "We can use some supplies. Let's see what they have we can use."

Troy stood watch as Moffitt, Hitch, and Tully went to check the halftracks. He saw them each coming away with gas cans, cans and canteens of water, medical kits, the German version of K-rations, and ammo they could use.

Hitch was filling the jeeps gas tanks while Moffitt filled their water cans before stowing the other things. Tully was about to make his final trip back to the jeeps with one last box of ammo, when one of the Germans he thought was dead jumped him from the back of the halftrack.

The box dropped from his hands as Tully swung around trying to get the German off his back. They went down and Tully quickly rolled to his knees, while the enemy moved a bit slower. The German lunged awkwardly at Tully with a knife, catching him in the arm as he tried to fend the German off. He would vaguely remember a machine gun being fired just before the German fell forward on top of him, knocking him back onto the hot sand.

Troy, Moffitt, and Hitch ran to where Tully was. Hitch dragged the German's bullet riddled body off of his friend as Troy and Moffitt knelt on either side of Tully. They looked at each other after seeing the knife's blade that had been stabbed through Tully's left forearm.

The sergeants helped the private to sit up and Hitch dropped to his knees behind him for support. He asked quietly, "Can you pull it out?"

Moffitt looked Tully in the eye and said, "Yes, but I don't think we should do it here and now."

Troy said, "He's right. We need to get out of here in case that patrol comes back with friends. There's a German base about twenty miles from here."

Tully gritted his teeth with a nod. "I understand, sarge. I'll be okay until we get somewhere safer."

Moffitt said, "I'll stabilize the knife and wrap it while you two finish packing up the jeeps."

Troy agreed. "Yeah. Come on, Hitch. Let's get busy."

Hitch said, "Right, sarge." He carefully laid Tully down as he stood. "You're gonna be all right, Tully."

Moffitt tied his ascot around Tully's upper arm to slow any bleeding during the upcoming move, then retrieved a med kit. He rinsed the wounds with water, then got out the alcohol and saw Tully staring at him as he unscrewed the cap. "I'm afraid it's necessary. We need to stave off infection for as long as possible."

Tully grimaced quietly as Moffitt poured alcohol on his arm. Then he asked, "You think it'll get infected even with the alcohol?"

"We have no idea how dirty this blade is, Tully. That and the less than sterile conditions … well, let's just say that it's a definite possibility."

Troy and Hitch made quick work of stowing the rest of their procured supplies and by the time they were finished, Moffitt had Tully ready to go with an injection of morphine on board."

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

The Rat Patrol went to a wadi they'd found the day before. It was a roughly ten miles from where they'd been.

Troy and Hitch made Tully as comfortable as possible in the shade on a blanket while Moffitt began to gather what he needed—one of their med kits and a bottle of alcohol, a German surgical kit, a small metal pan from one of their mess kits, and water. He poured alcohol in the pan and then placed the surgical instruments in it.

Troy and Hitch watched Moffitt for a bit, then Troy said, "Hitch, go on watch. I'll stay here and help."

Hitch simply nodded, got a machine gun from a fender holster, and went to the top of the wadi.

Moffitt was unwrapping Tully's arm when Troy knelt and asked, "How's it going, Tully?"

The private swallowed and hissed with pain, but said quietly, "It's goin', sarge." Tully looked at his injured arm and the knife embedded through it. "I checked every one of those Germans. I swear not one had a pulse."

Moffitt continued to work as he again examined the private's arm. "We don't doubt it, Tully. His pulse had probably slowed to a point where you couldn't feel it. He was as good as dead when he attacked you." Moffitt looked at Troy and said, "We need to elevate his feet."

Tully said through gritted teeth, "He sure had a lot of energy for an almost dead guy."

Troy stood and went to the back of the jeep as he said, "He must've woke up and saw you ransacking the halftrack. Adrenaline can do interesting things." He returned with an ammo box to put it under Tully's feet. "Everything ready, doc?"

Moffitt gave a nod. "You hold his arm steady." He looked at the private and said, "I wish I could give you another dose of morphine, but it's too soon."

Tully closed his eyes as he said, "I'll be okay…"

Troy held the injured arm snuggly and Moffitt said, "All right, on the count of three I'll pull the knife out." Troy gave a nod and prepared himself. "One … two … three…" Moffitt pulled steadily until the knife slid free.

Tully yelped in pain and tried to pull his arm away, but Troy held on and said, "Easy, Tully. It's out."

Moffitt picked up an instrument from the alcohol and said, "Let's see what we have here."

As blood dripped slowly from the wounds, Moffitt used forceps and tweezers to spread open the wounds so he could pick out any debris. Ten minutes later he had done all he could to clean and flush the wounds. Moffitt placed thick gauze squares over both wounds and wrapped it tightly. Then he untied his ascot and said, "We'll let the bleeding stop, then I'll bandage it."

Troy pulled over one of the extra blankets to elevate the injured limb. He looked at the now unconscious private and asked, "Are you going to stitch him up?"

Moffitt shook his head. "If an infection sets in, I'd rather the wounds are open so they'll drain. I just wish we had some penicillin."

"I thought you picked some up before we left base."

"I tried, but medical was running low and they weren't sure when their shipment would arrive. I was hoping we wouldn't need it. I'll use plenty of sulfa though."

Troy nodded. "How far are we from a field hospital?"

Moffitt said, "We're approximately four hours from our lines and two hours from there to the nearest field hospital. However, that's as the crow flies."

Troy sighed and looked down at Tully's pale, sweaty face. "Okay, as soon as you think he's ready, we'll get going." He stood up and said, "I'll go talk to Hitch."

The sergeant trudged up to where Hitch was standing in the cover of some trees. He saw Troy coming and waited for him to stop next to him before he asked, "How's Tully?"

Troy lit a cigarette and replied, "He's doing as well as can be expected. We're going to stay here until Moffitt thinks he's ready to travel."

Hitch blew a pink bubble and sucked it back into his mouth before he questioned, "How far is the nearest hospital?"

"Looks like about six hours as the crow flies."

Hitch looked at the sergeant worriedly. "That means it'll be closer to twelve hours … maybe more! Can Tully handle that?"

Troy blew smoke from his nose and mouth as he said, "He'll have to … we'll stop as often as he needs to. We have morphine. We'll keep him as comfortable as we can."

Once Moffitt was sure the bleeding had stopped he removed the tight bandages. The he applied sulfa and bandaged it with another heavy dressing, but not as tightly. Moffitt smiled slightly as he looked at the now conscious Tully and asked, "How's that feel?"

Tully said, "Okay. It hurts when I try to move my fingers though."

"Then don't try to move your fingers. Let's get you sitting up and see how you do." Moffitt grasped Tully's uninjured arm and slowly helped him up.

Tully groaned as he scooted back against the jeep's tire. "Dizzy."

"That's not surprising. Just sit still and it'll pass." Moffitt tied a sling around Tully's neck and settled his arm into it. Then he set a canteen next to the private and said, "I'm going to go talk to Troy."

The sergeant had just returned to camp as Moffitt walked away from Tully. Troy asked, "How's he doing?"

Moffitt said, "All things considered, not too bad at the moment. I'd give him at least another hour to rest before we leave."

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

Once they were on their way again, Moffitt stopped every hour to check on Tully in the back of the jeep. During one such stop Troy got a map out while Moffitt gave the injured private a dose of morphine.

When Moffitt and Hitch joined Troy where he'd spread to map out on the hood of the jeep, he pointed to spot on the map and said, "We're here. In a couple more miles…" He circled an area with his finger. "…we'll have to cross this."

Hitch said, "That's a lot of open desert to cross, sarge. It'll take us more than an hour, and there's no cover out there."

Moffitt agreed, but said, "However, going around it would take nearly a whole day, as we discovered earlier in this trip."

Troy nodded. "Right. I figure if we cross it at night, there's less chance of being seen by the enemy. But we'll have to make our run in one trip." He looked at the other jeep, which was parked just a few feet away, and asked, "Think you can make it, Tully? There'll be cover on the other side where we can sit still and get some rest."

The private closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the side of the radio. "It's not like there's really a choice, but, yeah, I'll be fine."

"Okay, we've got about an hour before it's dark enough to get going. Hitch, top off the gas tanks and radiators."

As soon as the darkness was complete, but before moonrise, the two jeeps drove out into the open desert with only small slits of light to show their progress. It was hard to miss the ruts and occasional rocks, but Moffitt and Hitch did their best to speed their way to the other side.

Nearly three hours later the jeeps pulled into the cover of the trees at a waterhole.

Moffitt immediately went to check on his patient in the back. "How're you doing, Tully."

He grimace and held his arm against his chest as he sighed. "I'm glad that's over."

Moffitt smiled sympathetically. "Do you want to get out?"

Tully shook his head slowly as he shivered. "Think I'll stay right here, sarge."

Moffitt grabbed a blanket and covered his friend, then felt his forehead. He didn't like what he found. He got two aspirin from the med kit and held the canteen as the private swallowed the tablets. "All right, get some sleep. We'll be nearby if you need anything."

Troy asked when Moffitt joined them, "How's he doing?"

"He's got a fever. I'm afraid infection may be setting in."

Hitch asked, "Do you think we can get to that field hospital before tomorrow night?"

Troy nodded. "We'll make it."

The three of them slept in two hour shifts for the rest of the night. Each checking on Tully occasionally, who was sleeping fitfully.

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

As soon as it was light, Moffitt unwrapped Tully's arm. He found both knife wounds an angry red with yellow pus oozing from them and the swelling went down into Tully's hand.

Troy and Hitch were looking over Moffitt's shoulder and Hitch said quietly, "That doesn't look good."

Troy said, "You were right not to put stitches in."

Moffitt sighed. "Well, we need do our best to flush these out. Hitch, get in back with Tully and hold him still."

Hitch hopped into the jeep next to Tully, who opened slightly glazed eyes and asked, "What's goin' on?"

Hitch replied, "Moffitt's going to clean up your arm. You've got a bit of infection starting."

"That must be why I feel so lousy."

When Moffitt was ready, he moved Tully's arm so he hung over the side of the jeep and put a folded rag under the arm as a cushion. "All right, you two keep him still. This is going to hurt."

Using a scalpel from the surgical kit, Moffitt lengthened both wounds. Then he used forceps to open each, one at a time, to flush as much of the pus out as he could with water.

Tully groaned and hissed with pain as he tightly clung to Hitch. Troy held the injured arm, feeling the private struggle against his hold.

And then the alcohol appeared in Moffitt's hand and Tully whispered through gritted teeth, "No…" Pain flared again as the alcohol was liberally applied. It felt as if the liquid was burning through his skin.

When he was finished, Moffitt said, "All right, let him relax while I prepare some aspirin. Hitch, give him a shot of morphine."

Troy and Hitch both released their grips, but Tully continued to cling to Hitch as he tried to breathe through the throbbing pain. Hitch retrieved a single use syrette of the pain killer and injected his friend. "Hang in there, Tully, this should help."

Moffitt returned with mug of aspirin that he'd crushed into powder and mixed with water to make a paste. He carefully packed the mixture into both wounds as he said, "It's not penicillin, but this and the sulfa should slow the infection."

Once Tully's arm was again bandaged and in the sling, it was time for them to get going. Moffitt had the injured private swallow two more aspirin, then bundled the shivering Tully in blankets before getting back behind the wheel.

As the hours passed, the jeeps drove on. Stopping now and then to take a quick break to check on Tully. Once they took the time to flush more infection from the wounds and repack them with more crushed aspirin paste and sulfa. Twice they had to hide to let German patrols pass.

Just after noon, the jeeps crossed over into Allied territory. Six hours later they finally reached the field hospital.

After going through surgery, a doctor appeared in the mess tent where Troy, Moffitt, and Hitch waited for word on Tully. The doctor got a cup of coffee and sat down with them. Troy quickly asked, "Is he going to be all right, doc?"

The doctor sipped his coffee and nodded. "We're still working on getting his fever down. We've got him on IV fluids with penicillin and pain killers every four hours. I packed the wounds open so they any residual infection can drain. I'm hoping to be able to stitch them closed in a few days to a week."

Moffitt said, "Tully complained that there was pain when he tried to move his fingers."

"There is some nerve damage. We'll know more as the swelling goes down. He's lucky we didn't have to amputate." The doctor hesitated, then said, "To be honest … Pettigrew could still lose his arm. It all depends on how he responds to treatment."

Hitch asked, "Can we see him?"

The doctor was about to refuse the request, but he looked at the three men and relented. "All right. You can see him, but he's asleep and I want him to stay that way."

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

Troy, Moffitt, and Hitch took turns around the clock watching Tully sleep as the nurses changed the packing and dressings regularly. Every four hours two injections were administers—one of penicillin and one of a pain killer called methadone. Moffitt and Hitch would quietly read to Tully, while Troy spent his time there playing solitaire, making sure to shuffle the deck loud enough that Tully would hear it and know he was there.

Twenty-six hours after they'd arrived at the field hospital, the fever broke allowing Tully to stir and open unfocused eyes. Moffitt stopped reading long enough to lean down and quietly say, "It's all right, Tully. We're at a field hospital. You're going to be fine."

Tully nodded slowly and closed his eyes again as Moffitt resumed reading.

As the days passed, Tully improved steadily and after seven days, he was taken back to surgery to have the wounds stitched closed.

On day eight, after Troy and Hitch did a patrol for the officer in charge, they and Moffitt were sitting with Tully playing matchstick poker.

Moffitt sighed and dropped his hand. "Well, I have absolutely nothing. Go on without me."

Troy laid his cards down. "I'm out." Then he looked at Tully and said, "Moffitt says the doctor is going to let us take you back to base in a few more days."

Tully nodded. "He says I'm healing up better'n what he expected. I won't be able to totally use my hand for a while, but the doc told me the nerves will take care of themselves." He threw some matchsticks on the growing pile, put one in his mouth, and looked at Hitch as he said, "I'll see that and raise you five."

Hitch frowned and concentrated on his cards as Moffitt said, "The doctor also mentioned that Tully could get back to work once the stitches come out and our base doctor clears him. Probably in another week or two."

Troy watched his privates as they went back and forth with their bets as he questioned, "How long do you think it'll take for the nerves to heal?"

Moffitt was smiling as he listened to his two younger friends' easy banter. "It'll take time, but he's already able to hold those cards even though he can't fully flex his fingers. As long as he can hold onto a steering wheel, you know he's going to be out with us as soon as possible.