Disclaimer: The Rat Patrol is not my property. They come out to play sometimes, then I send them home.
Author's note: Flanders Fields is a common English name of the World War I battlefields in an area straddling the Belgian provinces of West Flanders and East Flanders as well as the French department of Nord-Pas-de-Calais, part of which makes up the area known as French Flanders.
The name Flanders Fields is particularly associated with battles that took place in the Ypres Salient, including the Second Battle of Ypres and the Battle of Passchendaele. For most of the war, the front line ran continuously from south of Zeebrugge on the Belgian coast, across Flanders Fields into the centre of Northern France before moving eastwards — and it was known as the Western Front.
The phrase was popularized by a poem titled In Flanders Fields by Canadian Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae which was inspired by his service during the Second Battle of Ypres. The fields were unmaintained for years before they were made into a memorial. Today Flanders Fields is home to tens of thousands of poppies.
My husband and I are on vacation in Europe and visited the beautiful Flanders Fields Memorial and Cemetery. That visit inspired this story as we wondered how the memorial was spared during WW2. And now for a little creative license.
In Flanders Fields
By Suzie2b
The Rat Patrol had been sent to Waregem, Belgium to do a recon mission as only they could. After a long and successful mission, they were heading back to the airfield where they would be transported back to North Africa. They were actually beginning to miss the desert, and especially their jeeps. It was time to go "home".
The four Allies were packed up and ready to travel in their borrowed American staff car when Hitch said, "Hey, sarge."
Troy looked at his young friend. "Yeah, Hitch?"
"Do you think we could stop by Flanders Fields on our way to the airfield?"
"Flanders Fields?"
Hitch said, "Yeah, it's a World War I memorial and grave site…"
Troy smiled. "I know what it is. I was just wondering why you'd want to go there."
"Well, like I said, it's a memorial. American World War I soldiers died and were buried there." Hitch shrugged. "I'd kinda like to see it, sarge. Pay my respects."
Troy looked at Moffitt. "I don't see why not. That area is supposed to be clear and it's not much of a detour."
Moffitt nodded. "I wouldn't mind seeing it myself. I hear it's well maintained … at least as far as the war has allowed."
"How about you, Tully?"
The private said, "Paying respect to those that fought before us sounds worth the stop to me."
Troy gave a nod. "Okay, we should have time to make the stop."
##################
Tully drove the car with Moffitt next to him and their friends in the backseat. It took a couple of hours to get to the site of the Flanders Fields memorial and when they finally stopped, they were all glad to get out and stretch.
Hitch said, "I don't care what anyone says. Our jeeps are more comfortable than this car is."
Tully agreed as he got out. "The suspension leaves something to be desired, that's for sure."
Moffitt smiled. "Well, it won't be too much longer before we'll be back in the sand and sun with Olive and Bertha. I must admit I do rather miss them."
Troy was amused, as always, by the easy banter between his men. "Let's go in armed and take a look around."
The four Allies walked through the gated entrance. Inside were neat rows of crosses with the names of 368 American servicemen who were buried or commemorated there. In the center of the six acres was a small chapel inscribed with the names of 43 missing American servicemen who have no known graves. Inside the chapel, leaning against the alter was a wreath that had seen better days – the greenery and flowers were terribly withered. The grounds themselves were immaculately well cared for by the local Belgium people who hadn't been run from their homes by the Germans.
The land was provided in perpetuity by the Belgian government. The headstones were aligned in four symmetrical areas around the white stone chapel. It was so quiet, they could even here the birds in the trees around the property. The Rat Patrol was in awe and wandered in silence, reading the names of the World War I soldiers buried there. It was a utopia in the midst of World War II.
Hitch asked quietly, "How has this place not been touched by the war?"
Moffitt replied in a whisper, "I've no idea. It's hard to believe that not far away the fighting rages."
Tully had been standing in front of one of the stone crosses for quite some time. Troy took notice and walked over to see who the private had found. "You okay, Tully?"
He nodded slowly. "This guy here was from Kentucky, sarge. Just wanted to say something special."
Troy patted Tully on a shoulder and turned to move away. "Take your time."
They'd been there for nearly an hour when the sounds reached them. A rumble of engines. As one they moved quickly to the gates where their car was. They scrambled inside and Troy said, "Find somewhere to hide. I want to see who it is."
Tully maneuvered the car into some cover and it wasn't long before they saw the three German halftracks roll to a stop at the cemetery's gates.
Moffitt frowned. "I thought the Germans had been driven out of this area."
Troy said, "That's what we were told."
As they watched, twelve men left the vehicles – two stayed behind on watch while the rest entered the cemetery.
Tully whispered, "That German captain is carrying something, but I can't quite make out what it is."
The Allies waited and watched quietly from their hiding place. After a while Troy got Hitch and Tully's attention. With nothing more than a nod, the sergeant sent the privates to subdue the two guards.
Hitch and Tully quickly and silently rounded the vehicles to approach the Germans from behind. They moved as one, quietly knocking them both unconscious before dragging them both out of sight to tie them up and gag them.
Troy and Moffitt met their privates and handed each of them a machine gun. Then Troy led them into the cemetery. They moved carefully, staying against the stone wall that surrounded the cemetery where the trees and bushes allowed them to stay hidden as they kept their eyes open for the Germans.
Troy spotted four Germans standing watch outside the chapel. He knew there wasn't room inside for the other six and wondered where they could be. All they could do was wait and see what was going to happen.
A few more minutes passed before they saw the German captain and one of his subordinates walk out of the chapel. The lower ranking man was carrying the wilted wreath that had been inside. That left four unaccounted for.
The captain looked around, then said, "Es ist Zeit, die wir zu unserem Lager zurückbekommen."
The second in command sent two of the guards to gather the other four men. When they returned and the group of Germans was together, Troy signaled his men to follow. He stepped out of the brush with Moffitt, Hitch, and Tully on either side of him and growled, "Just a minute, captain."
Surprised, the Germans suddenly gathered round their commander and held their rifles at the ready. Immediately, the captain told his men to stand down, then looked at the Allies and said, "We were not expecting anyone to be here … except perhaps a caretaker or two."
Troy looked at his men. "Lower the guns, but be ready." He turned his attention back to the captain and asked, "What are you doing here? This is an American cemetery, captain."
"I am well aware of that, sergeant. It commemorates the American soldiers who died here in 1915."
"That doesn't answer my question, sir."
The captain said, "No, I suppose it does not. I like to come here with a fresh wreath when I can take the time."
Moffitt asked, "Why, captain, would you want to memorialize Americans?"
"World War I was a brutal war and the men who died here deserve to be commemorated – whether they were friend or foe to us, they fought valiantly."
Troy said, "It just seems a little odd, sir."
The captain smiled slightly. "I suppose it does. You see, sergeant, these soles lying here have nothing whatsoever to do with the war we are fighting now. I only wish to show them respect."
Still suspicious, Troy said, "Tully, go check the chapel. Make sure they didn't leave anything other than a fresh wreath in there."
"A wise move. I would have done the same."
Moffitt asked, "Is your 'respect' for those buried here why the Germans haven't destroyed this place?"
The captain nodded. "Yes, but it's not just my respect. We Germans have no desire to desecrate a monument such as this. Spoiling it would cause dishonor. There is no one here to fight back."
Tully walked out of the chapel and said, "There's just the wreath, sarge."
Troy sighed with relief. "Okay, captain, take your men and go."
The captain was mildly surprised. "You are letting us go?
"Personally, I would rather not have a squabble here, sir. Besides, you were paying respects to the war dead … and I, for one, respect you for it."
"Thank you, sergeant." The captain told his men to go to their vehicles. As they walked calmly toward the gate, he asked, "How did you get passed my guards?"
It was Troy's turn to smile a bit as he replied, "To be honest, sir, for my men it wasn't a difficult task. Hitch, Tully, go on ahead and untie the captain's men."
By the time the captain and his men, along with Troy and Moffitt, exited the cemetery Hitch and Tully were escorting the two groggy Germans out of the bushes.
Hitch said, "Sorry, captain, but they're going to have headaches for a while."
The captain said, "That's quite all right. Perhaps this will teach them a lesson on how to pay attention while on watch."
Then the Germans climbed into their halftracks and drove off. Once they were out of sight, the four Allies hurried to their car.
Tully slid in behind the wheel as Troy got into the back and said, "Don't start her up yet. Let's wait and see what happens."
Five minutes passed before they heard the halftracks coming back. They again stopped at the gate and the captain sent two of his men inside while the rest looked around, on guard for the four men they'd encountered.
Soon they returned and reported to the captain, who seemed satisfied. He carefully took one last look around and ordered his driver to get going.
Troy asked, "What were they doing, Moffitt?"
The sergeant smiled. "Apparently, the captain wanted to make sure we didn't disturb or take the wreath he'd left."
##################
At the airfield, Troy was informed by the commander that they were late and had missed their flight. They would have to wait until the next morning to fly back to North Africa. Troy dutifully apologized and said it couldn't be helped … without explaining further.
The commander was suspicious, but chose to not push the subject. "Go get bed assignments. Your flight will be taking off at 0700 tomorrow. Do not miss it, sergeant."
Troy gave a salute. "Don't worry, sir, we'll be on that plane with time to spare."
After getting quarters for the night, they left headquarters. Outside Tully asked, "Why didn't you tell the commander what happened, sarge?"
"Because I don't want him or anyone else sending men out there to try to stop or capture that captain while he's at that memorable."
Hitch asked, "Under the circumstances do you really think the commander would do that?"
Moffitt said, "If Troy had reported what we'd done, the commander would've been obligated to report it to his superiors."
Troy added, "The chances that someone higher up in the echelon would think those Germans would be easy pickings is too big to fool with. I refuse to be responsible for that." He stopped then and looked at his three men. "And I don't want any one of you mentioning what happened to anyone … ever. Got it?"
Moffitt nodded. "Understood, Troy."
Hitch said, "No problem, sarge. My lips are sealed."
Tully didn't readily say anything and Troy glared at him. The private gave his best look of innocence and finally asked, "Mention what, sarge?"
Troy simply rolled his eyes and walked off, leaving the others to trail behind with smiles on their faces.
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In Flanders Fields
John McCrae, 1919
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.