"What is the status of our unit?" I questioned Hoffmann crisply before Moffitt was even out of sight.

"Still holding at the same position."

"And the Afrika Korps?"

Hoffmann looked away, uneasy to inform me of the situation.

"Continue," I prompted. "I know that it is not easy presenting difficult news to one's commanding officer."

He suddenly looked up at me, his eyes meeting mine. I nodding to encourage him.

"Our orders are to fall back at first light tomorrow and join the remaining Afrika Korps units at Tunis. We are to cede our territory to the Allies."

"Any casualties or interactions with the Allies since my departure?"

"None."

"Good," I responded with satisfaction.

I had privately instructed Hoffmann before my leave to minimize contact with the enemy while still carrying out our orders. A casualty, from either side, would be nothing but sheer waste so near the end. I was finished with providing a steady stream of young German men to Death.

"Forgive me for asking, but what did happen to you, Herr Hauptmann?"

"There is nothing more to be said. You have already been informed of the event. I will look to you to bear witness to Sergeant Moffitt's confirmation provided by Sergeant Troy."

"Yes, of course, Herr Hauptmann." Hoffmann's kept glancing at me, clearly wanting to know more details. He finally realized I would not be providing anything additional.

"It was fortunate that we found you today. We began searching for you, Herr Hauptmann, on the day after you went missing. We heavily patrolled Ater but found no trace of you. Men from other units gossiped you had already surrendered and left us to our fate. I, and the other men of your command, never doubted your integrity. If it was remotely feasible for you to do so, we knew that you would return."

So it was my men searching for me on the day I was kept sedated. I was honored at their dedication to me so late in the war.

"I was aware someone was searching for us, but unsure of which side. I speculated that it could also be the remaining Rat Patrol men searching for Sergeant Troy."

"Why didn't you surrender, Herr Hauptmann, when you were with the Rat Patrol? You could have escaped what is in store for us" Hoffmann blurted out. "I speak enough English to understand Sergeant Moffitt offered you the opportunity."

"I have never cared to be asked questions when the answer is already known," I said softly to Hoffmann, echoing my father from so many years ago. "It is obvious why I returned. You are familiar enough with me to understand the rationale for my decision."

I looked past him to my enlisted men who were becoming uneasy due to our lengthy conversation. They shared our future's uncertainty. It was now time to leave and for all of us to meet whatever fate had in store.

"Leutnant, radio ahead to our camp. Notify them that we are immediately returning," I ordered, loud enough for the men to hear me. We would now begin preparing for the inevitable together.

Without commenting, Hoffmann removed his tunic and handed it to me. I slipped it on, covering my bloody shirt. I slowly walked to the half-track, my men solemnly saluting me as I passed them.

Hoffmann had already readied our camp to dissemble in the morning. It did not take me long to inspect it and give my approval to his preparations. I radioed headquarters, giving a brief account of my disappearance. My written report would come later that evening, once I had carefully considered and composed it. I sought medical attention only after I was satisfied with the camp's condition, and primarily only due to Hoffmann's insistence. While he had accompanied me during my camp review he had become more and more vocal about his concern.

Our camp possessed only an orderly. We had not had the luxury of a doctor for several weeks. Doctors were currently a rare commodity and the remaining ones had been reassigned to more critical areas with higher casualty rates.

The orderly peeled away the shirt as gently as he could in order to examine me. It only took a cursory inspection for him to declare there was little he could do for me.

"I apologize, Herr Hauptmann, but you can't possibly believe I have the background or expertise for your type of 'injury'. It is far beyond my abilities," he explained flustered and embarrassed. "I have not been trained to handle something like this. Frankly, I could do more for you if you had been shot or lost a limb."

I nodded, accepting that the young man was out of his depths. "I understand. Do what you can."

"I can offer you little more than a cleaning and morphine, Sir. You also have an infection which is strengthening. Unfortunately, I have nothing at all to give you for that."

There was no surprise at his diagnosis. Frankly, I would have been amazed if it had been different.

"As I said, do what you are able, but please forego the morphine. Retain it for those who have more dire needs."

"As you wish, Herr Hauptmann." The orderly set to work.

I had to fight against screaming due to the pain as he dressed my back, cleansing it of days' worth of grime and emerging maggots. He slathered it with an ointment and then left the wounds uncovered, telling me that he believed it better for it to be aired.

My back felt worse afterwards. I could not help but wish that I had foregone treatment for the simple change of a clean shirt. The maggots would have at least removed the dead tissue.

I returned to my tent late in the evening. It was the first moment I had been alone since escaping. I used the solitude to pause and gather my thoughts. It was hard for to comprehend I had escaped only this morning. If I had not known better, I would have sworn several days had passed.

I lit the lamp and glanced around my quarters. Hoffmann had seen for the tent to be neatly packed and prepared to be struck in the morning. My personal belongings had been boxed and placed in the corner, ready to be forwarded to my family if I had not returned.

My shaving mirror was still hanging from a tent pole and I went to it. It was the first time I had looked at myself since my escape. My face was bruised and puffy from the last beating Guest had given me. My eyes had a haunted look and it was obvious I had been emotionally traumatized. One eye was blackened and there were several lacerations across my cheeks and forehead. Compounded by not shaving for several days I looked awful, and only slightly better than Troy.

I fought the urge, but finally couldn't stop myself from stripping down to the waist, rapidly discarding the bloodied shirt and Hoffmann's tunic unto the tent floor. I reached for the mirror and unhooked it from the pole. Angling it behind me, I inspected my back.

The sight disgusted me. I slowly replaced the mirror, never wanting to see my back again. I closed my eyes, wanting to erase what I had seen from my memory.

I disconnected myself from my body, my body which had forever been sullied and dirtied by Guest. I had never felt this way towards my numerous other combat wounds, wounds I scarcely thought of again after receiving them.

No, the torture and his act had impacted me more greatly than I cared to admit.

I became angry and distressed over my experiences from the last several days and was filled with self-loathing and shame. My pulse quickened and it was difficult for me to breath. Suddenly, I desperately wanted a shower. Though the orderly had done a thorough job of cleansing my wounds, I needed to wash away the filth that no one could see. I could smell Guest's cologne and then, I could feel his hands and mouth on me. While I knew that I could never remove the marks that he left on me, I needed to regain some type of dignity and control over my body. I wanted to stand under scalding hot water until my body was finally purified, cleansed of him.

A shower, never mind hot water, was an impossibility.

I requested a jug of water to be brought. While I was waiting, I stripped out of the bloody shirt and trousers, wanting to rid myself of them. I rolled them together and handed them to my adjutant when he returned with the water. "Burn them," I ordered. He was taken back by the fierceness of my order. "Jawohl."

As he placed them under his arm, a white object fell from the bundle to land lightly on the tent's floor. He stooped and picked it up. "This too?" he asked, holding it in his out stretched arm. I stared at it, forcing myself not to recoil from it.

It was Guest's soiled handkerchief, the one he had used on the both of us afterwards and then presented to me as a keepsake.

I was fixated on it.

"Herr Hauptmann? What is your order?"

I was unable to stop myself from slowly taking the handkerchief from him. "No," I said, "not it."

Alone, I unfolded it. I brought it up to my nose to absorb all its scents. The odor of Guest's heavy cologne escaped from it. Mixed with it was my scent along with the unmistakable aroma of the sex we had shared together. Guest has grown to know me too well over the days he had held me captive. He correctly surmised that I would always hold unto the handkerchief as a reminder of my first sexual experience with a man.

No, I was unable to part with it. I placed it in my footlocker, masochistically saving it.

I washed my body the best I was able, ridding myself of Guest's scent. I then shaved, wincing as the blade slid over the bruises. Finally, I combed and trimmed my hair. The simple acts provided me with the first sense of normalcy in days.

I slept little that night from the pain and my racing mind. Thoughts of our imminent surrender competed with the memories of my captivity, leaving me restless. Soon, even the thoughts of surrender were pushed aside and I could only focus on Guest. Despite my washing, the heavy odor of Guest's cologne seemed stuck in my nostrils, smothering and sickening me. I recalled the excruciating pain of the torture, the pleasure of the heroin and sex, and then finally, the moment at which I had killed Guest.

I attempted to relax my mind and calm my thoughts by attempting to remember life in Coburg before the war. It was useless. Every thought that I had was haunted by Guest. Again, I remembered what he had told me. I now readily agreed with him: The heroin would have allowed me to relax and capture some sleep. It would have counter-acted both the pain and my stress from the duty required of me in the morning. But there was no drug available to allow me any kind of temporary escape from my reality. Nor, I told myself, would I ever partake of it again, regardless of what benefits.

Whatever I was to face, I would do it on my own with a clear head and a clean conscious. I finally accepted the reality of sleeplessness and rose early to meet the day.

I addressed the men of my Afrika Korps unit for the final time shortly after dawn. It was a beautiful desert morning, yet the cool morning air seemed stiflingly hot to me. The infection had fiercely taken hold of me during the night and had caused my temperature to dangerously spike.

The few remaining survivors of my unit were assembled, looking for me to provide them some type of hope and reassurance. I did not possess either of these to give them. But as their commanding officer, it was my duty to offer them both to the utmost of my ability. I found it ironic that the Academy had educated me on how to lead men to achieve victory, but that it had offered no instruction on how to lead them to accept defeat.

I forced my voice to be strong for such a difficult moment. It easily carried on the still air.

"Men." I paused, looking at their mostly young faces. There were a few survivors from when I had initially been posted here to pursue the Rat Patrol, but the majority of the men were young replacements. Even the boys with barely a need yet to shave had earned the honor of being called "men" due to how they had fought. Even more so, what horrors that they had witnessed in combat. Hopefully, they would have the opportunity to place everything aside soon, to once again become boys after the war ended. It saddened me, even as I thought it, because I knew that it would never be true.

"Men," I repeated. "We have fought long and hard for our victories," I paused as they nodded their agreement, "and, at times, we have paid a steep price for their obtainment. This has impacted the Afrika Korps' current strength and its ability to continue fighting on the existing front. To alleviate the situation, our unit has been ordered to fall back to Tunis today. Once there, we will reunite with the other units and await there to receive further orders."

I paused again to gather my strength, the strength it was critical for me to demonstrate in front of my men. I continued on.

"I will not lie nor mislead you regarding our current situation. While the future is an unknown that I share with you, what I do know is that our past will never die. Your courage in our combat engagements will be debated by future generations seeking to analyze and replicate your victories. Whatever the future brings, you may take pride in your accomplishments and never be regretful of them. The legacy of the Afrika Korps will live forever!"

I paused before I gave them my final words.

"It has been an honor being your commanding officer and I wish all of you good luck."

There were no 'Sieg Heils', no reference to the ruling National Socialist Party, no invoking of the Furher. No, I wanted nothing but dignity and would not have our final moments bastardized by the Nazis.

I quietly ordered the lead Febel to dismiss the men and to lower the Nazi flag. He handed it to me, neatly folded. I held the flag briefly, touching the faded and worn fabric, feeling just as frayed. I then ordered the colors to be placed among my personal possessions to preserve them for the future. While I had no loyalty to the swastika or what it represented, I wanted to retain the flag which I and my men had fought so fiercely for during my final command in the desert.

The short time that it took us to reach Tunis was a somber journey. Tunis itself was frenzied, the urgency and despondency could be tangibly felt. The once proud and orderly Wehrmacht was noticeably unraveling and on the brink of imploding into defeat.

I ordered Hoffman to see to the men while I reported to Jabs. It took me several minutes to walk the short distance to his command tent, as I had to stop several times to rest. I was heavily perspiring and even more feverish by the time I arrived.

"Herr Hauptmann Dietrich! We hadn't expected to you," Jabs' adjutant said, obviously surprised at my reappearance.

"Oh? And where was I expected to be? I radioed last evening regarding my return and acknowledged our orders to proceed here," I said annoyed. Imminent surrender was no reason for discipline to begin failing, especially among the command staff. "Please notify Herr Oberst Jabs I have arrived to brief him regarding my disappearance."

"Of course, Herr Hauptmann!" The adjutant noticeably flushed and then saluted before as he left to notify Jabs.

Jabs' appearance was almost immediate.

"Hauptmann Dietrich! I wouldn't have believed it unless I saw you." Jabs looked at my poor physical condition with a practiced eye and instantly offered me a chair and a glass of brandy. He waited a few moments for me to finish the brandy before requesting me to proceed with my report.

I briefed Jabs verbally for several minutes before I presented him with my more detailed written report. Scanning the report, he asked me several rapid questions, his eyes keenly searching my face when I responded.

As a result of the raging infection, I was feverish and lightheaded, making it a difficult effort to concentrate on Jabs' words. The brandy had been a mistake. It made my condition worse and did nothing to alleviate the pain. My vision began to deteriorate. Jabs soon had a warped appearance, as if I was looking at him through water. It was all that I could do not to be sick at Jabs' feet.

"And the proof for your disappearance is provided by Sergeant Troy through the other Sergeant . . . Sergeant . . ." he paused to find the correct name in the report, "Sergeant Moffitt?"

"Yes, he provided the confirmation. Leutnant Hoffman witnessed Sergeant Moffitt's verification."

"Why should the two of them provide an alibi for you?

I shrugged my shoulders. "A courtesy from one warrior to another?"

"And I am to believe what you have reported? The reason for your abduction, escape and miraculous return? You must admit everything looks strange, Dietrich." He casually tossed the report unto a side chair and continued looking at me.

"It is the truth, Herr Oberst."

"Relax, Dietrich, I know it is." Jabs was silent a few minutes before asking the most obvious question. "But why did you return? You are very much aware of the battle situation, and were even before you were captured," he said. "The North African war is lost. And our defeat here will soon be followed by another one in Europe. Within the next few days, we will all just be nothing more than POW numbers. Or we'll be dead."

"I know."

"So why did you return, Dietrich? If you had deserted or surrendered or defected, it would not have mattered. No one would have known the difference."

"It seems there is no end to the fascination as to why I returned," I said with a testiness present in my voice.

"Oh?" responded Jabs, obviously noticing my tight response.

"The sergeants Troy and Moffitt asked me the same question." I tactfully omitted including Hoffmann in the group. I wanted to cause Hoffmann no difficulty although I doubted considering his own words that Jabs would have taken action against Hoffmann.

Jabs leaned forward in interest. "And how did you respond to them?"

"The same as I will respond to you now: I wanted to be with my men when they surrendered."

He studied my face intently. "Only a Dietrich would do something so farcical as to return to the viper pit once he had managed to escape," he shook his head slowly. "Dietrich, I believe your explanation regarding your disappearance and return. Be aware, though, 'others' might not be as easily convinced. Your incident could follow you into the future, even after the war ends."

I nodded. It wasn't necessary for him to explain whom the "others" were.

"Have you sought medical care since you arrived here?" Jabs asked.

"No. I believed it was more important to report to you first."

"Well, you've done so, for all it is worth. You are now to seek medical care. You appear about ready to collapse."

I began to protest, but Jabs called for his adjutant.

"You are to escort Hauptmann Dietrich straight to the medical tent without delay," Jabs instructed. "He understands that this is my order and that he is to make no detours." Jabs looked sternly at me.

I rose unsteadily to my feet with effort but managed to formally salute Jabs for the final time.

"Sir."

"Hauptmann Dietrich," he responded with a curt nod. "Give my best to your father."

I departed on the final air transport from North Africa. The commanding officers were desperately trying to evacuate as many wounded as they could, especially the seasoned officers. The doctors had taken one look at me and immediately authorized my evacuation to Italy. There was little, if anything, they could do for me in Tunis. They did not even want to attempt treating me here, concerned that it would put my life in danger. I had repeatedly requested, almost begged, to stay with my men, but I had been flatly refused.

As the plane banked into a large turn heading towards Italy, I caught a final glimpse of the desert. I had been drawn and linked to it for so many years and now I was leaving it behind along with Sergeant Troy and the Rat Patrol. I was also leaving my beloved Afrika Korps to its fate. It seemed at the end, despite my efforts, that I would be unable to share it.

Hoffman had accompanied me to the airplane and I had spent my final moments with him.

"You are fortunate, Herr Hauptman" he had said sincerely. "You are escaping the impending surrender of the Afrika Korps. I am glad for you."

As his commanding officer I should have immediately corrected him for his negative comments, but how could I when we both knew he spoke the truth?

"No, Ernst, I have not," I had frankly replied using his given name, something that I had never done before. "We both will share the same fate. Mine has only been delayed."

"Perhaps America will not be so bad when I am sent there," Hoffmann had said, trying to make the situation something positive. "I have become interested in it after our combat against the Rat Patrol. I believe I would like to work on a ranch some day and hit cows."

"I believe the correct phrase is 'Punching Cattle'," I had corrected him with a smile.

"Ah! I will have to remember it when I am sent to America."

I had given him a faint smile at his forced optimism. I also had managed to reach into my possessions and pull out my remaining bottle of Jack Daniels. Less than a quarter remained of the precious liquid.

"Leutnant, here is something to compliment your new found interest in the United States. Please accept the American whiskey as a small token of my appreciation for your excellent and dedicated service. It belongs out here on the lines, with someone still fighting, for what little time is remaining."

"Herr Hauptmann, thank you but I could not accept such a gift. I know how much it means to you and how long you've had it. There is still time for you to enjoy it in the hospital."

"I insist. Given the situation, I suggest you finish the bottle quickly."

Tentatively, Hoffman had reached out for the bottle and then, had finally taken it. "It is an honor, Herr Hauptmann. Thank you."

"You are a fine officer, Leutnant. Meyer ignored your talents and abilities when he was your superior officer. Truly a wasted opportunity for you and the Afrika Korps." It was one of the few times I had ever spoken poorly of a fellow officer to a subordinate. My words were unprofessional, but Meyer deserved nothing more from me. Meyer had taken his petty jealousies far beyond the normal level of animosity.

"You should have received command of your own unit by now and a promotion to Hauptmann. I recommended your promotion to Oberst Jabs and submitted the documentation weeks ago. I have not been informed if it will be processed before the surrender. In my opinion, though, you earned the rank and the responsibilities a Hauptmann entails."

I could see him become proud of his accomplishment, quickly beaming at my words of affirmation after so many months.

"Herr Hauptmann, it was an honor serving you; it was even more of an honor to fight beside you. I will toast you as I enjoy the whiskey tonight. They say 'You always meet twice in life' and I pray we do so."

I didn't know it at the time, but I would not taste Jack Daniels whiskey again for over three years, when David's bottle was so generously shared with me.