After the Raid

By: AliasCWN

Chapter 5

Troy rode hard for the hill as more shots rang out. He recognized the initial shots as having come from an American machine gun. Knowing that Hitch hadn't been caught off guard eased his mind slightly. His main worry now was that his driver was weak from blood loss and might not be able to maneuver to keep the enemy at bay. He knew the Arabs would try to out flank Hitch and use their numbers against him, but he didn't know how many there were, and that concerned him.

The horse was blowing hard by the time he reached the hill. He left the saddle before the horse could slide to a stop. The gunshots might cover the sound of his approach or they might not, but he decided that it didn't matter. If the Arabs heard the horse coming they would just assume it was their own man returning. Leaving the horse to do what it wanted, he ran for the hill. Clawing his way to the top, he heard one final gunshot and then silence. Since the last shot wasn't from an American gun, Troy slowed his approach and proceeded more cautiously. Not knowing who, or how many, were alive at the top of the hill, he inched forward with his machine gun muzzle leading the way.

There was a sound from the other side of the hill and the sergeant froze. Not knowing if Hitch was dead or alive, he held his fire, waiting. He heard another sound, and it was close, but again he couldn't positively identify the origin. Fearing the worst, he inched forward, listening for any other sounds.

He lifted his head slightly to peek over the hill. The sight of his driver lying in the sand in front of him was a relief. When he looked past his driver he could see at least one dead Arab. He couldn't hear any other combatants but he didn't take any chances. He could see Hitch moving, obviously hurt, but alive. He opened his mouth to call to the younger 'rat' until he spotted a wounded Arab trying to take aim at his driver. Acting instinctively, he aimed and fired in one continuous motion.

Hitch reacted by twisting and sending a bullet headed Troy's way. The projectile passed so close that he swore he could feel the heat of its passing.

"Hitch!"

"Sarge?" The blond replied with a shaky voice. "Sarge, I almost shot you! I didn't hit you did I? I'm sorry Sarge." Hitch was talking fast, his voice and face expressing his shock. "I can't see Sarge; tell me I didn't hit you!"

Troy moved forward, rushing to his driver. "What's wrong? Why can't you see?" Hitch still held his gun pointed his way so he pushed the muzzle toward the ground. He gripped the private's arm and helped him sit up. "You didn't hit me. It's all right. You missed me by a mile." He lied as the younger 'rat' collapsed onto the sand. "Are you hit?"

"No." Hitch shook his head. "I mean, not again."

"What's wrong with your eyes?"

"I got sand in them, everything's so blurry that I can't see anything."

Relied flooded Troy and he patted the younger man's shoulder lightly. "It's okay, just keep them closed, I'll get some water."

Hitch dutifully closed his eyes, tears streaming down his face, and waited as Troy retrieved the canteen that he had dropped. He was shivering when Troy returned, hugging his body with his head hung low.

Troy washed his eyes carefully, using more water than he needed but wanting to be sure he got all of the sand. The younger soldier looked like he was going into shock and the sergeant didn't want him to endure any stress that could be avoided. Troy couldn't be sure if it was shock, exhaustion, or the close call but he knew the kid needed rest.

Taking a shovel from the jeep, he walked over to a clump of scrub brush and began to dig a trench in the middle of it. When he was done he moved all of the gear that the Arabs had planned to steal and dropped that next to the trench. Next he returned to his driver and tried to help him to the shelter.

The blond was so weak that he couldn't stand on his own. It was a testament to how weak he was when he didn't object when Troy lifted him onto his shoulder and carried him to the trench. "I'm not that far gone." He looked up at Troy with a wan smile as the sergeant gently lowered him to the ground.

The sergeant looked at him in confusion.

Hitch nodded to the trench next to him. "Just don't cover me up until you're sure I'm not breathing." Humor mixed with the pain in his eyes.

"Don't tempt me." Troy growled in mock warning. "You rest. I'll work on the jeep. If I need any help I'll give you a call. Okay?"

"Okay Sarge." Hitch responded with a tired sigh.

Troy draped a tarp over the brush on either side of the trench to give Hitch some shade. He used the salvaged gear to help hold it in place. The shelter was small but it afforded the youngster some relief from the heat. Giving him another pat on the shoulder, Troy made sure he was settled before he returned to the jeep.

His horse had kept running until it found the horses the other dead Arabs had ridden. Troy approached it slowly, careful not to spook it. Once he had a grip on the reins he tied it next to the others and retrieved his tools and the salvaged fuel line. He glanced at his watch, wondering if Tully had managed to get Moffitt to the hospital yet. He jiggled the tools in his hand and wished the lanky private from Kentucky could be there to fix the jeep. He would have to pay more attention in the future when the two privates worked on the vehicles. Knowing how to fix the basic problems might come in handy again sometime in the future.

Dropping to the sand, Troy slid under the jeep and got to work. the job that might have taken Tully, or even Hitch, minutes, was taking him a long time. He had to wake Hitch twice to ask about one problem or another. The young private had been quiet for a while and Troy decided to take a break and go check on him. He slid out from under the vehicle, leaving his tools scattered in the sand. He grabbed a canteen and took a drink before heading up the hill to give Hitch some water.

"Hey Sarge!" The call carried across the silence of the wadi.

"Coming."

"Do you hear that Sarge?"

Troy paused, straining to hear the sound that his driver had heard. The faint rumble registered almost immediately. "Engines."

"German engines." Hitch confirmed.

"Stay put, I'm going to go check it out." Troy ran for the hill where he had left Hitch to stand guard earlier. The halftracks in the distance still sent up smoke that pinpointed their location for anyone interested in checking it out. Further in the distance, past the halftracks, Troy spotted a line of moving vehicles. The line of halftracks and trucks were moving slowly, apparently in no hurry, but headed in a direct line for the battle site. Troy turned around to scan his location, wondering if the column might search it after they checked out the burning vehicles. Using his glasses, Troy watched as the column stopped at the abandoned vehicles. As he watched a tall, lean officer climbed out of the lead halftrack and walked around the scene. "Dietrich."

The officer walked around the burning husks and studied the tire tracks on the ground. He stood with his hands clasp behind his back as his men extinguished the last of the fires. His eyes missed nothing as he read the signs left behind by the battling forces. Then, almost nonchalantly, he walked toward the patrol car abandoned a short distance from the halftracks.

The captain knew a bit about the desert and the Arabs who inhabited it. Troy had no doubt that the officer would read the signs and come to the correct conclusion; the Arab had been a bandit and had met up with someone who objected to his larcenous ways. Troy tried to remember if he had left any clues behind as to his identity. It was clear the moment that Dietrich spotted the hose tracks. His entire body stiffened and he looked around quickly in case the Arabs were still around. The officer followed the tracks with his eyes, staring at the hill for several minutes.

Troy cursed as Dietrich called to his men and pointed toward the horse tracks. He waved a hand in the direction of the tracks and his men ran for their vehicles. Troy turned and ran as the German column followed the single set of tracks toward the hill where Hitch and Troy waited.

The Captain picked up his radio and warned his men to be alert as the horse tracks blended with two sets of tire tracks. He immediately recognized the tracks as those belonging to an American jeep, or two. Although they appeared to be hours old, he still warned his men to take care. When he had received the call from the convoy that had been attacked, they had claimed to have eliminated at least one of the enemy; the tire tracks seemed to tell a different story.

The second attack, the one that had taken place where he stood, had been reported as the work of only one jeep. The column commander had reported seeing one of the jeeps fleeing and admitted to having given chase and run into the second attack. Dietrich suspected that the fleeing jeep had been a decoy and the commander of the other column had fallen for the ploy. Not willing to fall victim himself, he ordered his men to proceed slowly.

The Captain didn't really expect to find any of the Rat Patrol waiting on the other side of the hill. The battle had taken place in the morning and it was now almost evening. He knew that they never hung around after the battle unless they wanted to check the damages and they had had plenty of time to do that. Still, they were unpredictable, and he wasn't a fool. They had built their reputation by doing the last thing expected of them. He loosened his luger in his holster and strained his eyes to see around the hill.