Disclaimer: Any errors and historical inaccuracies are mine alone.

Tully Pettigrew – My Story

By: Dex 27

My name is Tully Pettigrew and this is how I came to be a member of the Rat Patrol.

I grew up on a farm in Kentucky and was the eldest of my siblings. I would help my dad with the farm work and mom with the young ones. I was shy and pretty quiet but as I grew older I discovered girls and started running moonshine with my cousins. My mom was worried about what might happen to me and then Pearl Harbor happened. Everything changed after that.

My dad was a veteran of the First World War so it just felt right to enlist. I was to leave for basic training just after Christmas. When that day came it was one of the most difficult of my young life. I got up at dawn and spent some time just looking around the farm trying to save that image in my head. Who knows if I'll ever see this country again?

Mom kept saying how handsome I looked in my army uniform as she tried to hold back the tears. We had decided it was better to say goodbye to the kids and mom at home and when the moment finally arrived there was a lot of tears and hugs.

Dad said it was time to go, so I got in the truck for the ride to town. It was a silent drive as I stared out at the countryside; so many things going through my mind. We arrived a bit early at the bus depot in and that was when my dad shared some advice with me, advice that I took with me and held close to my heart.

He said, "Son, war can be hell… so know it is okay to be scared and at times even to cry 'cause some of the things you see will be bad. Just know your mother and I are really proud of you and love you very much."

The bus pulled into the station; dad hugged me. There was no official good bye; that would be too final. I boarded that bus, found a window seat and waved to my dad.

The ride to camp was interesting as I had never been so far from home. When I finally arrived, everything was strange, so many people, so much activity. I got through basic training with no trouble. I even found time to hang around the motor pool and help the guys there fix the engines for jeeps, trucks and tanks. All that time fixing the tractor on the farm and the vehicles moving the moonshine came in handy. Word got out about my interest in engines so I ended up being stationed to North Africa. Guess they figured I would be an asset to keep those machines running with all that sand around.

When I arrived there I could not believe how hot and dry it was, with sand everywhere, it was really very different to the green of Kentucky. Working on the engines was something I came to enjoy, especially the part where you got to make sure they worked fine. I would take those jeeps out for a spin over the dunes and run them as fast as I could. I loved the feeling of being air borne as you came off a dune. There was another guy who was about my age that I became friends with. His name was Mark Hitchcock but I nicknamed him Hitch for short and it stuck. At times we would take the jeeps out and test them together.

I guess the brass noticed our interest, when one day Hitch and I were called into Captain Boggs tent. He told us he was putting together a recon unit consisting of two jeeps with 50 caliber guns on the back. There was a Sergeant Troy and a Corporal Coulter there as well. Hitch and I were to be the drivers for these jeeps. Troy was the leader of the group, tough and demanding but after a few trips out I got to know the team better and that is how we stayed alive, looking after each other. He sure earned my respect. I was content to drive, observe and make comments when it seemed the time to do so. We were called the Rat Patrol and our job was to create trouble for the Germans in any way we could…and that usually involved shooting.

We were going along well harassing the German scout columns and blowing up their supply depots. Then one day our luck ran out. As we attacked a couple of German halftracks a tank came from behind a wadi and fired off a round. It struck the jeep I was driving and Coulter and I got tossed out. I was not hurt too badly and crawled over to Coulter; he did not look too good. Troy and Hitch were able to neutralize the enemy while I tried to help Coulter. Troy helped me get Coulter into their jeep and Hitch took off at full speed. We got to a field hospital and Coulter went into surgery but he did not make it. I was lucky; I only had a few cuts and bruises.

Captain Boggs gave us a bit of time off, but I felt really bad and kept over-thinking that day, wondering if I could have done things differently.

Troy and Hitch were very supportive but it was really hard when the person you shared a jeep with day after day is gone. Captain Boggs needed us out in the field to start doing recon again. He called us in to introduce us to our new member, his name was Sergeant Jack Moffitt and he was British. That was a bit of a surprise and Troy did not look very happy about the situation but Moffitt was a desert expert and spoke Arab dialects as well as German. He had visited North Africa with his dad many times and it was felt he could really help us out as he was both an archaeologist and an anthropologist.

When we got back to our tent, Troy let Moffitt know in no uncertain terms that we were a team and we depended on each other to stay alive. Moffitt was in full agreement and was happy to let Troy take the lead. I got to be Moffitt's driver and I was willing to see what happened. Our first mission was a success and was the result of Moffitt's knowledge of the desert. As time went on we got to know each other better and as they say the rest in history.