An Evening at the Bar None

(Fanfiction by stillvintage55)

(aka vintage55)

It didn't rain all that often in North Africa, but sometimes storms would blow across the Mediterranean and actually survive for a few days. When the rains did come, the desert war retreated into soggy silence, and the soldiers of the Allied armies took the opportunity to blow off some steam. North Africa was predominantly Muslim, but there had been bars, restaurants, and long-established neighborhoods where those who were not strictly observant and lonely young soldiers from various backgrounds could find both alcohol and willing female company. The Bar None was a local hangout for both troops and natives.

It had already rained for three days in a row, and the forecast was for still more rain for another two or three days, so Sergeants Troy and Moffitt gave Tully and Hitch the OK to spend an overnight in town. Troy and Moffitt were also heading for town, but decided to not babysit Tully and Hitch – the younger soldiers were given their freedom, but with the usual caveat that they not get into any trouble with the military police – no brawls, no arrests, no drunken misadventures, and to stay out of trouble!

Of course, asking two young soldiers in their twenties to stay out of trouble when they actually had the opportunity to raise hell was, perhaps, wishful thinking. Truth be told, Troy and Moffitt were not exactly choirboys themselves, but they had the life experience to be able to drink and chase women without getting into serious trouble.

As they drove into town, Moffitt asked Troy why he had decided to give Hitch and Tully their full freedom to enjoy their leave. "Sam, you're usually quite protective of Hitch and Tully. What made you decide to let them have free rein this time?"

Troy smiled, "Well, they've both grown up quite a bit in the past few months. Tully's got a girlfriend now and Hitch seems to have calmed down a bit himself. Here they are, risking their lives fighting the Afrika Corp and dealing with the constant possibility of death or serious injury, it just seems like we can't treat them like teenagers when they're facing combat situations with us so much of the time. They do their jobs and they do them well. It's time for Mother Hen to retire."

Moffitt smiled, "Tully's always had what I call "an old soul," a maturity beyond his years, at least most of the time. Even Hitch seems less apt to court trouble these days. Of course, just because I said this, they'll probably get into a bar brawl and picked up by the MPs …what's your plan if that does happen?

Troy laughed, "The usual search and rescue mission, I suppose, especially once the bars close. Let's just hope for the best…I don't know about you, Jack, but I'm ready to have some brews myself, and I might even try to find a willing female. You with me?"

Moffitt smiled, "Yes, but I will dutifully disappear if you find that certain female and it appears that romance is in the offering. Might even entertain a lady myself, if the opportunity arises…and I will find other digs for any such momentary romantic interlude – so our room on base is yours for the using, if you need a safer place to woo the ladies than some crummy room over a bar."

Troy laughed, "We sound just like Hitch and Tully, at least before Tully began spending most of his overnights with his girlfriend. Hitch used to pay Tully off in cash when Hitch really wanted to have their room available for Hitch's date. Tully made some serious money with that arrangement, and Tully wasn't exactly a monk himself! I have no idea where he took his women, and I never asked. At least I know where to find him now."

Tully and Hitch began their evening with pitchers of beer. They were soon joined by some other G.I.s from their base. Tully had ordered some food for himself, but Hitch and the other soldiers weren't interested in food, at least not yet. By 10 PM, everyone was drinking shots with their beers, and the evening's entertainers, exotic female dancers, had just taken the stage to a chorus of wolf whistles and boisterous comments from most of the soldiers.

Tully enjoyed watching the women dance. But, much to his own surprise, he had no desire to pursue a possible quickie with any of them. He was quite content to head back to the base and seek romance with his girlfriend, a volunteer messenger; the two of them had been dating for six months now, and the relationship had become serious and fulfilling for both. He smiled to himself – the changes in his life were profound since then. He could actually envision a good life once the war was over, a life that was shaping up in his mind to be quite happily domestic, instead of his past years as someone who had little desire for permanence with any of the women he had been involved within the past. He thought to himself, "My God, I'm changing into my Dad! Once he met my Mom, that was it. I'm really starting to like the idea…just have to hope I can survive the war." That was a big if, given his current line of work as a special forces soldier with the U.S. Army's Rat Patrol.

Shortly after midnight, Tully looked around for Hitch. Tully was ready to drive back to the base, but he wanted to make sure Hitch could get a ride back later with someone else. Hitch was snuggled up in a booth with one of the dancers; one look told Tully that Hitch would not want to leave anytime soon.

"Hitch, I'm heading out, going back to the base. Can you get a ride home from one of the other guys here?" Tully asked.

Hitch smiled, "Yeah, that shouldn't be a problem!" The dancer sitting next to Hitch in the booth resumed kissing him. Tully could see that Hitch was happily occupied, so Tully left the bar and walked back to the jeep, noting that the other jeep was also still parked next to it. Troy and Moffitt were still in town, too. Tully laughed to himself, "Heck, I'm getting boring, but I never figured I'd enjoy it so much!"

Tully had driven about halfway back to the base when he heard the ominous chatter of a machine gun. He gunned the jeep, hoping to outdistance whoever was shooting at him when he felt the searing pain of a bullet hitting the right side of his chest, then another hitting his hand on the steering wheel. The jeep rolled to a stop. Tully was bleeding heavily, but managed to roll out of the jeep and take cover behind it. Several more shots hit the jeep, sounding like American weaponry, to Tully's ears, and not German.

Tully tried to stay awake and alert, but with the pain and blood loss, it was a losing battle. He tried to cover the wound in his chest, as he was having trouble breathing and could taste blood when he coughed. He was soon overwhelmed by the pain, and became semi-conscious. He did feel someone kicking him and searching for the jeep keys, but did not have the strength to put up a fight, and couldn't even see his attacker in the darkness. The last thing he heard before losing all awareness was the jeep being driven away. He was alone, badly wounded, and 5 miles from the base. Not the end of the evening that he had hoped for.

Back in town, Troy and Moffitt were watching the goings-on at the bar, and saw Hitch wrapped up with a dancer in a booth. Troy laughed; Hitch was definitely loaded, but his date was passed out, sleeping on Hitch's shoulder. By the looks of Hitch, he wouldn't be very far behind her. "Well, Jack, what do you think? Should we get Romeo out of here before he's out cold?"

"Hmm, I suppose he'll probably be upset with us in the morning, but I do think he needs rescue. Don't want him getting hurt, after all. I don't see Tully here. Maybe he's already left for the comforts of home, and I can't say I blame him."

After peeling the girl off of Hitch's shoulder, the two sergeants left the bar with Hitch wobbling between them.

Troy asked him, "Where's Tully? I didn't see him in there."

"Oh, he left hours ago…No fun anymore…asked me if I could ride back to base with some of the other guys…No problem, I said…Probably won't be heading back until morning…Hey, where's Lola? She was sitting right next to me! We had plans!"

Troy grinned, "It was time for her to go home, too, Hitch."

It had started to rain heavily again, and Tully gradually regained consciousness, not sure how long ago he had been shot. The bleeding seemed to have slowed down, but the pain had worsened.

He forced himself to sit up, but did not have enough strength to stand. He fought the fuzziness in his brain, and the dangerous little voice inside him that kept saying, "Lie down, there's nothing else you can do. Pretty soon, the pain will go away and it will be all over."

He fought that voice, as enticing as it was, and tried to think of a way he might be able to get out of his situation. Maybe, someone else would drive by and find him. He was near the road, after all. Maybe, he could start a fire so anyone who did drive by might find him. Maybe.

Tully still had some of his wooden matchsticks in his shirt pocket, but what could he burn to start a fire when it was raining? He stared at his feet. Maybe he could get his desert boots off and burn those. The boot linings were cotton, and still fairly dry. He untied the boots with his good hand, and used his feet to kick them off. Dizzy and out of breath, he waited a few minutes before reaching forward the couple of feet needed to get the boots and drag them closer. Better hurry, he thought, as waves of pain engulfed him again. He could feel blood still running down his chest, soaking his shirt once again. Better hurry.

As Troy drove Hitch and Moffitt back to their base, he could hear Hitch snoring in the back of the jeep, curled around the gun mount. Moffitt noticed a small campfire on the side of the road, just ahead of them.

"Troy, that's a strange place for a fire, especially on a rainy night. Pull over for a minute." Troy stopped the jeep, grabbed his portable machine gun, and cautiously approached the fire. There was a body curled up near the fire; as Troy got closer, he recognized it was Tully.

"Moffitt, grab the medical kit and get over here fast! It's Tully!"

Troy did not see the other jeep anywhere nearby, but his primary concern was Tully, who did not respond when Troy called his name. Troy rolled him onto his back, saw the blood-soaked shirt and bloody hand, then searched for a pulse. There was blood dripping from his mouth as he breathed, and his pulse was weak and irregular.

"How is he, Sam?" Moffitt gently pulled Tully into a sitting position against their jeep.

"Not good, Jack. Let's get him back to base right away. We can put Hitch in the passenger seat, and you can sit in the back with Tully. I'll drive."

Moffitt said softly, "I wonder what the hell happened? Looks like someone hijacked his jeep and shot him in the process."

"Jack, let's just hope he'll be able to tell us."

Two days later, Tully regained consciousness at the base hospital. He had survived the initial surgery, and the doctors believed he would be okay in three or four weeks. He looked at Troy, Moffitt, and Hitch as they sat at his bedside. "All I know is that I was just driving back to base, and someone shot me. Never did see who it was, but whoever it was took my jeep while I was passed out."

"The MPs told us that someone driving your jeep hijacked the Army Payroll truck the next day," said Troy. "Whoever shot you was after the jeep. The MPs found the jeep burnt to a shell about 20 miles from here, but they're still looking for the guy – they think it could be a local who works on base, but who knows? All I know is that you're going to be okay, and that's what's most important, as far as we're concerned."

Tully smiled, "How often does the guy who behaved himself be the one who gets into trouble? Maybe I should start raising hell again."

Moffitt laughed, "Let's leave the hell-raising to our combat missions. You've got a good thing going right now, Tully! I envy you the happy relationship, as do we all. I'll bring some books for you to read tomorrow."

_ The End_