A Temporary Situation

By: AliasCWN

Chapter 3

"Something's not right Sarge." Pvt. Brett Brubaker nudged the arm of his sergeant and whispered in his ear.

"What do you mean Brubaker?"

"They were waiting for us Sarge. We didn't see any dust from them moving so they were here a while before we arrived. A column that size doesn't travel without making a dust trail high enough to be spotted from a long way off. How did they know where we would be?"

Sgt. Quinn, a career soldier, shrugged at the question. "Maybe a plane spotted us, or some of those Arabs, they'd sell their mothers for a little bit of gold."

"That doesn't explain Sergeant Moffitt." Brubaker glanced toward the man under discussion and growled. "They knew he was with us. They headed straight for the truck he was riding in. A spotter couldn't have told them that because Sergeant Moffitt hasn't been out of that truck since we left the base."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." Brubaker answered. "He slept most of the way; I had to wake him to get him to drink some water at our rest stop. He told me no one knew he was coming with us because it was a last minute decision to allow him to head back to his unit. Even his own guys don't know he's with us."

"Too bad, we could use their help right about now." Quinn replied.

"Did you see them after they caught him?"

"No. What did I miss?"

"They checked his dog tags and pulled a paper out of their pocket and checked it. They knew he was here Sarge, but I don't know how."

"Maybe they had a spy on the base."

"No." Brubaker argued. "Sergeant Moffitt got into the third truck at the base but changed to the fourth one when he found out he knew the driver. That was about three miles from the base and he's been in the fourth truck ever since. It was still dark when he changed trucks and no one could have seen him close enough to identify him. Besides, he did it on that rough stretch where we had to go slow. The trucks never stopped, he changed rides on the move."

"You're sure they went straight to the fourth truck?"

"Positive Sarge."

Sgt. Quinn fell silent as he thought about what he had heard. It certainly sounded as if the Germans were aware of Sergeant Moffitt's presence ahead of the attack. And the attack itself had been well set up, not a hasty plan thrown into being in a hurry. "Brubaker, who is our radio man on this trip?"

"John Beach."

"Do you trust him?"

"Yeah Sarge, I do."

"Okay, I saw him among the survivors. Find him and ask him who else had access to our radio."

Brubaker nodded and carefully made his way to Beach's side. The guards didn't like them talking so he had to be cautious and not draw attention to their conversation. Luckily for them most of the guards had been assigned to watch over Lieutenant Pope and Sergeant Moffitt.

A short time later Brubaker was back, a frown marring his homely features. "Sarge, Beach says no one was supposed to have access to the radio but him and Lieutenant Pope." Brubaker stared toward the lieutenant with a hurt expression. "You don't think the Lieutenant sold us out do you?"

"No way Brubaker, I'd trust the Lieutenant with my life."

"Then who?"

"Somebody else got to that radio. Beach must have left it long enough for someone to get to it and send a message without his knowledge."

"I guess, I mean it's not like he sleeps with it or anything." Brubaker agreed. "I'll ask around and see if any of the guys saw anyone around the radio while Beach was gone."

"Ask Hooper, he was driving the truck right behind the one carrying the radio." Quinn suggested. "And be careful. If we have somebody working with the Germans among our guys he's not going to want anyone asking questions. One look from him and the krauts will shoot you to shut you up."

Brubaker nodded that he understood the warning.

"It looks like they're getting ready to move us out. That explains why they shifted those loads. We won't be allowed to talk on the truck."

"I'll ask around real quick Sarge. I'll start with Hooper."

Brubaker stood next to Hooper when the guards ordered them into the truck. He shifted around, hesitating to board the truck until more of his friends had scrambled over the end and found seats. Only when he was ready did he follow the others. Brubaker and Hooper sat together near the middle of the truck bed. Two guards climbed in behind the prisoners and sat near the tailgate.

Two of the prisoners started a quiet conversation but the guards quickly broke it up. They ordered everyone to stay still and be quiet. All they could do was sit and roll with the bouncing of the truck.

Sweat poured down Quinn's face as the dust rolled in from the back and stuck to his wet skin. He rubbed at it absently as he tried to remember if he had seen anyone acting suspiciously since leaving the base. He knew most of the men on the convoy, a few were new, but they had seemed to be okay. It bothered him that there could be a spy among them and he hadn't noticed anything suspicious. He prided himself on being a good judge of character but he hadn't noticed anything wrong. If he had to pick one to suspect it would have been Private Hawkins, Hawk to the few friends he had made. The man was a loner who seldom talked; even to the men he called friends. Only Hawkins was buried in the desert along with the other causalities from the ambush. He tried to remember if any of the men had ever sounded sympathetic to the Germans but nothing came to mind. His thoughts were interrupted when Private Grant suddenly jumped to his feet. One of the guards lifted his rifle and shot the private before a word could be said. Grant crumbled to the floor, holding his hand over the wound. He reached toward the guard, saying something in German that seemed to shock the guard.

The truck ground to a stop as more Germans rushed to the back of the truck. The guard who had shot Grant was visibly shaking as the sergeant in charge of the Germans asked him questions. The German sergeant looked toward the Americans but he couldn't ask any questions because of the language barrier. Notably angry, he ordered Grant's body to be removed and the trucks started moving again. Brubaker met Quinn's eyes and smiled.

Quinn's thoughts went back to their departure from the base. Grant had been driving the third truck. Sergeant Moffitt had literally stopped their departure to join the convoy. The trucks had already started to move before the sergeant was added to the roster. Brubaker had been absolutely certain that Moffitt had not gotten out of the truck when the convoy had stopped to cool the engines and fill the radiators. How many men had noticed which truck the sergeant was riding in? The only reason he knew about the switch was because Brubaker had mentioned it after taking water to the sergeant. Quinn tried to remember if anyone else had been near enough to hear the comment. He couldn't remember anyone else being near at the time the comment was made. Add to that the fact that Grant spoke German and it was looking more and more like the Germans had taken care of their spy problem for them. Quinn just hoped that the Germans wouldn't hold it against them that one of their own had shot the traitor. Quinn couldn't picture the German commanders being very happy that they had lost their spy.