I never thought that with my experience that I would be assigned to provide escort duty to a supply column. However, I realized it was necessary to capture the commandos. The column and all it contained, supplies as well as men were serving a double purpose. While delivering much needed supplies to the forward areas, it was also being used as bait to attract the commandos
The convoy consisted of supply trucks, half-tracks, light vehicles and two panzers which would provide cover. For good measure, a ladder truck was included at Hoffman's suggestion. He had thought that it might prove useful if we needed to scout areas not visible from the ground. I could not disagree with his logic. We had over thirty men, heavily armed with a range of weapons. Still, even in the company of all of my men, a part of me felt immensely alone when surrounded by the remoteness of the desert.
We had left nowhere only to be seeking the same piece of nowhere, held on to tenaciously by the Germans, and half-heartedly by the Italians. The space in which we travelled was vast and anonymous, vaguely menacing as it called my name. Despite the deadly reason I was assigned for this mission, my soul felt so at liberty and alive.
I was near the column's front, riding in a half-track. My firm insistence to be in this position had prompted Hoffman's unfinished comment of "But Hauptmann Meyer never…" It was a statement which had been met by amused smirks from some of the men.
It had only taken one look from me, not nearly so amused, for Hoffman to realize it would not be in his best interest to complete the sentence. Since I had arrived at this duty station, word had quickly spread that I did not tolerate any comparisons to my predecessor. Occasionally, a comment would slip from one of the men. Sometimes the words were truly uttered accidentally, or, depending on the man and his intention, with the not so hidden purpose of testing me.
Any vague, remote, one in a million thought I may ever have had of Meyer's honor and reputation as a German officer had completely vanished. I soon discovered that he led his men from the rear and never from the front. It caused my dislike of him to turn to loathing. A capable officer and a successful leader led from the front, not from behind his men. His place was always at the front, to give them courage and strength and to share their danger.
Rommel led from the front lines and expected the same from his officers. Apparently, Meyer's interpretation of Rommel's example was something completely different and molded to meet his own personal desires.
No wonder the men held little to no respect for Meyer, I thought bitterly to myself. And now their thoughts regarding him were being transferred over to me. It was now my challenge and responsibility to earn the respect of the men under my leadership. A respect that Meyer had thrown casually away with both hands.
The penetrating cold forced my thoughts from Meyer. The open air vehicle in which I was riding only intensified the early morning chill. I wore my jacket to ward off the cold that seemed to bother me more and more recently. I had become too acclimated to the heat of the desert. As a result, I seemed to no longer crave the colder northern climate in which that I had lived for the majority of my life.
We had left early in the morning, long before the sun would begin to beat down on us mercilessly, leaden and dry. My main reason for ordering the early departure was the critical necessity of successfully delivering the supplies. To accomplish this, I needed to out maneuver the commandos working the area. No doubt they would have intelligence of our movements and know the approximate location of our supply routes.
However, I had chanced that it would be difficult, while not impossible, for them to be in position this early so deep in German held territory. I seriously doubted that they would have traveled by night. There was still a possibility that they could have already been located deep enough in our area to minimize their travel distance. I knew the commandos would engage us if they were determined enough to do so. My aim was to do everything possible to minimize any advantages that they might hold against us. At a minimum I had tilted the odds slightly away from their favor.
Any advantage that could be gained would be needed. Our designated route made me extremely cautious. I thought travelling it was downright dangerous, not to mention foolish and asinine. Though I was not overly familiar with the road and area, I knew enough to realize that it was not the strategic choice. In fact, it placed the advantage completely on the side of the Allies.
Of course, I had expressed my doubts and concerns regarding the route to my leadership. My concerns, no matter how well founded, seemed to have fell on deaf ears, as they were firmly placed aside by my superiors. They assured me that we would receive air support to provide cover.
So far I hadn't seen so much as a paper Luftwaffe airplane in the sky.
The route led us through an area which showcased the desert in all its desolate beauty. There was only sparse vegetation and the soft sand looked like it had been gently delivered from a beautiful coastal beach. The only intrusion of man was where the sand had been hardened into a passable dirt road due to the countless vehicles driven upon it.
My eyes were drawn to the splendor of the sand dunes that had been rippled into waves by the wind. They were as beautiful and delicate as if an artist had sculpted them over a lifetime of effort, painted in a wide palette of colors. I knew that most would only see nothingness surrounding them, missing all that the desert had to offer. There was something about its savage beauty that attracted me much like the seductive pull of a dangerous and beautiful woman.
My mother also enjoyed natural beauty. I frequently wrote to her describing the raw beauty of the desert. She would gently remind me in her letters to please send her a drawing of the desert. It was something that I had promised to do since my arrival.
How could I possibly tell her that all the death and destruction I had witnessed darkened the beauty on how I viewed the desert landscape?
The only time that I had attempted to sketch the desert, the only images in my mind had been burned vehicles and sprawled bodies. The images of death invaded any artistic vision that I might have possessed, marring the pristine beauty of the desert. After that, I had placed my art supplies away. I had not had the desire or the strength to touch them since. I could not capture the desert without showcasing the destruction.
I had no desire to create such "art", nor did I desire to share the horrors of war that blatantly with my mother. As a woman and my mother, she should never bear witness to the same scenes that regularly haunted not only my dreams, but also my waking hours. They say that one becomes immune to the impact of war. Either I was an exception to this rule, or "they" had never fought in such a brutal war.
I forced myself to focus again on the mission at hand. Any distraction could open all of us to be killed. Thankfully, the wind that had created the beautiful landscape was light today, barely moving the air or the sparse native plants. It was fortunate for our mission that the weather forecast did not include any of the sand storms from the previous week.
Ahead I could see the sand dunes increasing in size, forming tight walls which flanked the road. The increasing dunes were quickly narrowing the passage due to their encroachment on both sides the road. The littered carcasses of burned out vehicles and supply crates began to dot the pristine sand. The abandoned and destroyed vehicles were a silent testimony about the danger of the route. I noticed the occasional skeleton of downed airplanes. From which side they originated I was unable to distinguish.
The extensive wreckage confirmed in my mind that our route was well known to the commandos in the area. I had been informed that our supply columns had been hit in the past, but not to this magnitude. We were obviously within more of a striking distance of the Allies than I had been appraised. My thoughts began to focus on how the supply columns must be easy targets for light vehicles like the American Jeeps. It was too late for me to minimize our present risk further.
The route tightened further and I felt my uneasiness continue to grow. The debris that lined both sides of the road increased in frequency, a constant warning which could not be ignored. Constantly, I scanned the area and reminded my men to be on high alert for any hint of the enemy. They assured me with casual waves and smug grins that they were being attentive and watchful, no doubt believing that I was a needlessly worrying like a green leutnant on his first mission.
I had experienced combat countless times and I truly believed that the most difficult moment is always before the battle actually commences. I would tighten to a razor sharp edge with anticipation and my exhilaration would be at its highest level. I could feel the moments become lifetimes. It was a feeling of a never ending eternity of pain and pleasure, where the harsh reality of dying contrasted with the selfish hope of surviving. But it was these moments that I had been born for, for what I had waited. It was when I felt the strongest and the most in control of everything around me.
The radio played, occasionally broadcasting popular music in between war status updates. I was so focused on scouting the vicinity that I barely registered when the music ended and another update began. The word "commando" caught my attention. I reached around to increase the volume so I could hear the warning announcement better.
It was at that moment I instantly knew we had entered a trap. We had made a terrible mistake and we were about to pay the price for our error.
And as if they had synchronized their arrival with the announcement, the commandos appeared in a flash.
Honestly, I was almost relieved when they finally appeared. The waiting was over. Now, I could focus on ending their reign in the part of the desert I had now claimed as my own. No doubt they felt I was the intruder in their real estate. After all, I was the interloper who needed to be taught a lesson in response for my cheekiness that dared me to enter. The extensive German wreckage was their calling card and warning to their claim for this priceless piece of sand and dirt. The message was for the Germans and the other Axis powers to surrender and leave.
I sensed them before I could actually hear them. Two Jeeps carrying four men appeared from behind one of the massive dunes.
Our left flank came directly under fire. Despite myself, I felt the familiar excitement of entering combat. My analytic side took over as adrenaline began rushing through my body. Grabbing the radio microphone, I issued orders to my men. Gunfire competed with the sound of my voice, but as the lead two panzers circled back to provide heavier fire power, I knew that I had been heard.
The Panzers delivered blistering fire to the Commandos. They happily returned it.
In mere seconds, a supply truck had exploded. The commandos turned their attention to a second truck, raking it with incessant fire. The vehicle ran off the road, engulfed in flame, as it too exploded.
The driver threw himself from the truck, screaming in agony as the flames claimed him. A brief moment after hitting the ground, he was still.
Bullets sprayed around me. I could not believe that I was not hit.
The detonations from the destroyed trucks illuminated the day time sky more brightly than the sun in their horrific beauty. Even though my vehicle was constantly moving, I could feel the heat from the flaming wreckage against my face.
The commandos seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at once. If I hadn't known differently, I would have sworn there were a dozen Jeeps instead of merely two.
We were having no success against them, even though we out-matched them, bullet for bullet. I ordered my men to move faster, constantly urging them to press the attack but we were unable to score a hit.
I was amazed at how maneuverable their Jeeps were. It was truly amazing how they easily outpaced us. Even though they worked separately and unable to directly communicate, they were in perfect sync. Their plan was obviously well formed and well practice, executed down to the minute level. As a result, it was completed by hand signals which were instantly understood and executed.
The rattling of our guns surrounded me as we constantly rained heavy fire upon them. Our efforts yielded no success.
The Jeeps used their quick speed to maneuver in front of us, now driving side-by-side, hitting us even harder from their new angle. Their new position greatly limited our line of sight due to our column formation. I surmised by their move that they were in the final seconds of their attack and were positioning themselves to end the engagement.
Finally, after we had fired countless rounds, we scored a hit against one of the Jeeps.
I saw one of the soldiers slump over his .50 caliber. With no one to direct its deadly power, the weapon now pointed uselessly at the sky. Fire power now reduced by half, the commandos quickly broke off the engagement and retreated as I suspected they would. At their speed, we were not going to catch the remaining three of them, at least not at this particular engagement.
Even though it seemed like hours, I estimated less than five minutes had elapsed for the entire battle.
My driver halted our vehicle and I ripped off my goggles to improve my vision. I quickly brought up my field glasses to watch the rapidly retreating commandos. It was difficult for me to see much due to the heavy dust. I knew we had seriously hit, perhaps killed, the one man. Other than this, I doubted we had inflicted any other damage against them.
If they were able to inflict this much damage against us in such a short time, how much would they be able to accomplish when they had more time and strength at their disposal? They were already using surprise completely to their advantage even though we were aware they were in the area. Only God knew what they could accomplish with all three of these by their side. Yes, they had earned my respect but my respect had come at the price of my men and the supplies.
I sighed heavily at our minimal impact. Next time would be different, I reasoned with self. I was now more familiar with their operation and would put this lesson to good use. I knew that every failure contains the seeds of success, just as every success harbors the danger of failure. It would be my responsibility to ensure my next encounter was seeded with what I had learned today.
I continued staring out over the desert even though they were now beyond my sight. They were gone, leaving nothing but desert dust and destruction behind. Finally, I lowered my field glasses. Far off in the distance, even the dust was now beginning to settle.
My immediate thoughts should have been concerning my men and what remained of the supplies. Instead, I found myself drawn body and soul to the Allied commandos. They had stayed just long enough to give me a brief and bitter taste of what they had to offer if I chose to continue my present folly. While the edge was coming off my body, my mind was still racing, locked on the commandos. I could feel my pulse slowing and my breathing become deeper as the effects of the brief engagement begin to dissipate.
I was pleased that my men had performed well given the commando's surprise attack and their success against us. Hoffman's vehicle appeared suddenly beside mine. I noticed that he had more confidence about him and was steady after the engagement. My initial instincts were confirmed. He would develop into a fine officer and quickly become dependable during engagements. And for the first time since my arrival, Hoffman anticipated my question and answered it before I even had the opportunity to ask it. He began speaking to me, but I knew what his words would be before they even left his mouth.
"That, Herr Hauptmann, was the Rat Patrol."
My ears were still ringing from the firing, but I was able to hear his muffled voice well enough to confirm my thoughts.
I let his words hang in the air.
The commandos had made their appearance and now their identities had been confirmed to me.
Without even knowing it, they had thrown down the glove of combat to me. I had willingly and eagerly picked it up. It was now my turn to throw it down to them, but I would ensure that the end results would be different in the future.
After a few brief moments I finally spoke. My voice deadly but calm.
"Hoffman, find out everything you can about them. Not just their recent sightings and engagements against the Afrika Korps, but also who they are: Their names and backgrounds. I especially want to know who the lead man is behind all of this."
Hoffman nodded, but I barely noticed. My eyes never left their final spot, even though the commandos were now past the horizon.