This is my first attempt at writing Fan Fiction. I didn't know such websites existed and I have so enjoyed reading about the exploits of my favorite foursome. I am indebted to CWN, susie2b, and the Writing Hood for inspiring me to take a chance and go for it. I am grateful for your commonly shared ideas about the characters. I am so technologically challenged and hope I manage to get this posted correctly. This is about 1/3 of what I have written so far but thought I would throw this out and see if there is any interest. Thank you for reading and encouraging me to get back to writing.
The Zeus Raid
Takes place immediately following the Kingdom Come Raid
Chapter One
Tully was wrong. He had announced that Hitch was over the hump regarding the fever that racked the young man's body after being shot in the head and abandoned by Corporal Meekin. He was very wrong. Hitch's temperature continued to rise as they drove the German halftrack back to where they had left the jeeps. As Tully removed the camouflage netting covering the Willys jeeps, Troy and Moffitt lifted the stretcher upon which Hitch lay and placed it on the ground. Moffitt grabbed a medical kit from beneath the front seat of his jeep and knelt with Troy next to the wounded private. Tully grabbed an automatic and climbed to a higher vantage point to watch for trouble.
"His fever has worsened," Moffitt announced as he placed a hand on the blonde's perspiration drenched head. Gently he removed the dirty, bloody bandage the Germans had hastily wrapped around the wound and examined Hitch's injury.
"He was lucky," Moffitt continued. "It's just a graze but I'm sure he has a concussion, and probably an infection. I can't be certain if his skull has been fractured." The sergeant cleansed the wound with Troy's assistance, applied sulfa powder and taped a fresh gauze bandage over the graze.
"Do we have any penicillin?" Troy asked, deeply concerned for his driver.
"Yes," Moffitt replied reaching to prepare a hypodermic of the miracle drug that was just coming into widespread use. "Hopefully this will help with the infection and bring his fever down."
Hitch moaned softly and stirred where he lay.
"Hitch," Troy called eagerly. "Can you hear me? Open your eyes." His driver struggled but slowly managed to open one eye and then the other. His breathing was labored, and the pain was obvious.
"Easy, Hitch, it's alright. We've got you," Troy soothed. Hitch looked up into the sergeant's face.
"Sarge?" he murmured followed by, "Sick."
"Turn him on his side," Moffitt commanded urgently, and they managed to do so just as the young man vomited. When he finished, they positioned him on his back and Troy covered the mess with sand while Moffitt wiped Hitch's face. "How about some water?" Moffitt asked, reaching for a canteen. He was concerned that the pupils of their wounded friend were different sizes. Hitch nodded slightly and tried to sit up. With the movement, his face scrunched in pain and his blue eyes rolled back as he fought unconsciousness.
"Easy, kid," Troy said, "Let us help." He placed his arm beneath Hitch's shoulders and lifted so the private could sip from the canteen. Hitch took several swallows before Moffitt warned, "Not too much. We'll give you more later." Troy lowered the young man back on the stretcher.
"Sarge?" Hitch whispered and gave himself up to the darkness. Troy took a K-ration box and climbed to where Tully was keeping watch. He gave the Kentuckian an update on his fellow Rat's condition and said he'd be back to relieve him in two hours.
It was a long night. Hitch's fever continued to climb, and he grew restless but never fully regained consciousness. The rest of his team took turns watching over him, bathing his forehead and chest with water. As the desert cooled, he began to shiver, and they wrapped him in several blankets.
Moffitt gave the private another injection of penicillin "Come on, Hitch," he said softly as he tucked the blankets back into place. "You can get through this. You have so much ahead of you." The older man settled with his back against the wheel of the jeep and his mind wandered to a conversation he had shared with Hitch a few weeks earlier.
Chapter Two
Moffitt entered the room shared by the four members of the Rat Patrol at their home base. The base was crowded, and they were sharing quarters. He found Hitch alone at the single table with several textbooks and notebooks. He was using a slide rule to work out a complicated math problem and the concentration was clearly written on his face. He was biting his lower lip and hadn't noticed the sergeant enter the room. He scribbled some numbers and checked his work before Moffitt spoke, "That must be some project you're working on."
Hitch was startled and glanced up. "Oh, yeah," he began collecting the papers and materials.
"Don't stop on my account," Moffitt said. "What are you working on?"
"Some assignments for an engineering class I'm taking by correspondence," Hitch replied. "I've been meaning to ask you a favor?" Hitch pushed his glasses up further on his nose.
"Ask away," Moffitt smiled.
"Well, you know how I've been working on my degree when I can. I'm at the end of a couple of courses and need to take the final exams. I was wondering if you would serve as my proctor. Normally, it's the base commanding officer but I think they may be more impressed if a Cambridge professor oversaw my exams." Hitch flashed one of his patented grins.
"I think you overestimate my credentials," Moffitt returned the grin. "How much further do you have on your degree?"
"Well, I had completed almost 3 years before I joined the army and I'm hoping to get as close to finishing as possible, depending on how long the war lasts and how much time I can find to work on lessons.
"How old were you when you started college? Cornell, right?" Moffitt asked, knowing that Hitch was eighteen when he entered the army and was only twenty years old.
"I entered at sixteen," Hitch seemed uncomfortable talking about it. "Cornell was a compromise with my father. He wanted me to go to Yale like several generations before me and major in business. I wanted MIT to pursue a degree in mechanical engineering. He held the purse strings and refused MIT because it wasn't "Ivy League." We managed to compromise with Cornell, and it's been okay. I even got to play some college baseball.."
"Sixteen? Wow!" Moffitt was impressed.
"It wasn't anything special, Doc," Hitch downplayed his achievements. "I was always good at math, and reading, so I just did well on exams. I went to private schools where academics were stressed. I skipped a couple of lower grades because I was bored. Later, I just wanted to be out from under my father's control as soon as possible. I was determined to finish at Cornell in the least amount of time possible, so I took a heavier class load.
You know the rest of the story—how I inherited a large trust fund and a house from my grandmother when I turned eighteen and as soon as I signed the trust papers, I enlisted. That was shortly after Dunkirk. I knew the Americans couldn't stay out of the war forever and I wanted to be ready.
My father was outraged but I think we're gradually coming to accept one another. I think he's become more tolerant of my decisions. At least he seems like he's more understanding. We exchange letters that are usually pleasant. He would still prefer me to be an officer but that's not for me." Hitch was putting his completed lessons in an envelope to put in the mail.
"So, why is it I usually see you reading comic books?" Moffitt teased. Hitch grinned again as he stored his textbooks and study materials in his footlocker.
"I never read them much growing up, so I'm enjoying myself," Hitch replied.
"I would be honored to proctor your exams, Hitch," the sergeant replied. "Just let me know when and where."
The door to the room opened and Troy and Tully walked in carrying several small packages and a bundle of letters.
"We picked up the mail," Troy said handing several magazines, letters, and a small package to Moffitt. There was a tin of homemade cookies for Tully from his mom and several letters from his sisters and family. Troy put several letters in his pocket and then turned to Hitch. "You've got a package from your mom. I hope it's more of her fudge. Several letters obviously from the girls you left behind, one from your father and one that is the best smelling envelope I've ever had the pleasure to sniff." Troy placed Hitch's mail on the table but held one letter up in a teasing manner. "Smell this," he said to Tully and Moffitt who breathed deeply.
"Man, that is something else," Tully commented with a smile.
"I say, that's lovely," added Moffitt. "Is this someone we should know about?"
Troy handed the letter to Hitch who smelled the perfumed stationery. He smiled and blushed deeply as he put the letter in his pocket.
"Thanks, Sarge. I'll read it later. I have something I need to mail so I'll meet up with you for dinner." Hitch couldn't leave fast enough.
The three older Rats looked at one another and shook their heads. They were used to Hitch getting letters that smelled good, but this was very special. The fragrance seemed expensive and there was something in Hitch's manner that was different. Whoever wrote that letter was someone he cared about. They continued to kid him about it throughout their next several missions. He never shared who had written the letter and his face reddened every time they mentioned it so of course, the teasing went on for weeks.
Chapter Three
Tully was sleeping next to Hitch when he heard the injured man's breathing change and a deep moan escape his lips. "Tully?" he whispered softly and in pain.
"Right here, Hitch," Tully was on his knees.
"Going. . . to. . . be," Hitch managed to squeak out before beginning to retch. Tully anticipated what was happening and quickly turned Hitch on his side. When he was finished, Tully laid his friend back and covered the vomit with sand. He cleaned Hitch's face and gave him some water. The younger man spoke softly before falling unconscious, "Zoos."
The hours dragged on with Hitch's fever continuing to rise and his periods of thrashing increasing. His pain was obvious and caused numerous moans. Any time he came to, he was sick before drifting off again. Occasionally they would hear him mumble, "Zoo," and at times he would yell the name, Meekin. They could understand his muttering about Meekin, the American who had wounded him, but why was he talking about zoos?
Throughout the night they bathed his face and chest to bring down the fever. His shirt was drenched with perspiration, and he continued to shiver in the cold air. They couldn't risk a fire in case there were Germans in the area. They gave him more penicillin and felt helpless they couldn't do more.
As the sun was beginning to rise, Tully made coffee and brewed tea for Moffitt who was examining Hitch.
"I can't be sure without a thermometer, but I think his fever has stopped rising. It hasn't broken but I don't think it's getting any higher," Moffitt said sipping his tea. Tully was back on watch as the sergeants discussed what to do.
"Do you think it's safe to move him?" Troy asked. "He needs a doctor."
"We're a full day's drive away from base, "Moffitt replied. "I don't think we should wait. You're right, he needs more medical attention than we can provide."
They decided to risk a straight run to their home base. They destroyed the halftrack with a grenade and made Hitch as comfortable as possible in the back of a jeep. It was Moffitt's opinion to not give the young man any morphine since he was unconscious, and they couldn't be sure how dangerous the head injury was. Troy and Tully drove as quickly as possible, intent on getting their friend to the base hospital.
They stopped several times to check on Hitch and allow the engines to cool. He tossed and turned in the back of the jeep and continued to rave. He had brief moments of consciousness, and they again heard him muttering about zoos and Meekin. At least the retching had stopped, and Moffitt was right about the fever. It had stopped rising but it wasn't abating.
The sun was setting as they passed through the base gate and drove straight to the hospital. Hitch was taken for examination and the three weary Rats busied themselves while waiting for news. They dropped the jeeps at the motor pool, made a brief report to Captain Boggs, got cleaned up and had a hot meal before returning to the hospital for an update.
The doctor reported that Hitch had a concussion but no skull fracture. He was receiving saline through an IV and more antibiotics to fight the infection. They were relieved to hear his fever had broken and he was now sleeping soundly.
They went to the ward and found the familiar blond head lying in a hospital bed. He had been cleaned up, and the wound rebandaged. There were dark circles beneath his eyes and the right side of his face was swollen and bruised from the trauma of the gunshot wound. Despite the contusions, his face was relaxed, and he looked like a young kid lying there dressed in blue striped hospital pajamas. They knew the nurses would be all over him when he awoke. The doctor assured them he wouldn't awaken until the morning and sent them to get some much-needed rest.
Chapter 4
Over breakfast the next morning, Tully raised the question, "What do you think Hitch meant when he talked about the zoo?"
"Sometimes it was more than one, sometimes he said "zoos." Troy joined in, taking a long swallow of coffee.
"It could be anything, or nothing," Moffitt said, adding jam to his toast. "He was unconscious and feverish. There's no way of knowing what was going through his mind."
"I've seen him feverish before and he's never said anything like that. I wasn't surprised by his calling Meekin's name but zoos? I just don't get it," Tully ate his powdered eggs.
"Maybe it was a childhood memory?" Troy suggested. "Maybe he was recalling a visit to the zoo with his parents. There's a zoo in Central Park near where he grew up." They looked at one another and shook their heads. It didn't seem likely.
"I know he's been doing correspondence courses with his college," Moffitt seemed to be thinking aloud. "Maybe he's taking a Mythology class and was really saying, Zeus, as in the Greek god who rules Mt. Olympus."
"He probably won't remember anything about it, and we'll never know," Tully said as they returned their trays.
The three men made their way to the hospital and found Hitch still asleep. They located chairs and made themselves comfortable playing matchstick poker while waiting for their friend to awaken. A nurse stopped next to the bed and changed the bottle of saline. She checked the young man's pulse and listened to heart.
"How's he doing?" Troy asked. The nurse saw the concern on the Rats' faces and assured them,
"He's going to be fine. He was awake a few moments earlier but still confused about what happened. He'll be glad to see you," she smiled. At one time or another, she had cared for all four men and knew the concern they had when one of them was ill or wounded.
About twenty minutes later, they heard Hitch take a deep breath. They gathered about the bed as the blond slowly fought his way to consciousness. He saw his teammates grinning at him and he licked his dry, chapped lips as if to speak.
"How about some water?" Moffitt asked. Hitch nodded slightly but the pain in his head made him close his eyes and moan.
"Let that be a lesson to you," Tully advised. "Let us do the work and keep the head movements to a minimum." He lifted Hitch beneath the shoulders and helped him drink a few swallows of water.
"How are you feeling, Mark?" Troy asked, "And don't say, fine." They all smiled. It didn't matter how badly Hitch was injured, he was always, "fine." Hitch managed a small half-grin.
"Head hurts. . .a lot," he admitted. They knew it must be bad if he was acknowledging the pain. "Weak," he managed to say. He was struggling to keep both eyes open, and they noticed his pupils were still different sizes.
"Some guys will do anything to have a bunch of pretty nurses fluttering around," Tully teased. Normally, a remark such as this would make Hitch smile but this time it evoked no such reaction. His eyes were becoming heavier, and he quickly fell asleep.
"I'll stay with him while you get your reports ready for Boggs," Tully said, pulling out a copy of Agatha Christie's, The Sittaford Mystery from his pocket and beginning to read aloud to his injured friend. The sergeants left to complete their reports and drop them at Captain Boggs' office.
They visited several more times that day but saw very little improvement in their youngest Rat.
The next morning, the Patrol was sent out on a recon mission with Andy Patterson reluctantly serving as Hitch's temporary replacement. Andy had filled in for both Hitch and Tully when they were out of action due to injury or illness or on a temporary assignment elsewhere. He was an okay driver, but he didn't have the skill of the two regulars, and he lacked their sense of adventure.
Hitch was still asleep when they left but they wrote a note saying they would return later in the day. Hitch wished he had been able to accompany them and hoped Andy wouldn't get them into too much trouble, or damage Hitch's jeep, Bertha.
When the patrol returned late that afternoon, they went through their usual routine. The privates dropped off the Jeeps at the motor pool, gathered supplies to restock the Willys while the two sergeants reported to Boggs. They ate dinner together in the mess hall before going to visit with Hitch. Andy stayed behind to speak with friends from his usual unit.
Mark was propped up in bed and his color was better. The IV was gone and the dinner tray across his lap revealed the sparse remains of a mug of broth and a small dish of Jello. He looked up and smiled when he saw them arrive.
"How did it go?" he asked excitedly. "Any problems? Did Andy do okay?"
The other three Rats made themselves comfortable on chairs about the bed.
"Piece of cake," Moffitt said.
"Just a simple, straightforward re-con mission," Troy replied. "You're looking a bit better."
"Oh yeah," Mark joked. "This is as far as I can sit up without getting dizzy and I feasted on broth and Jello. If I'm a good boy, I get to have some oatmeal tomorrow and perhaps some toast. And if I'm really good, I get to try sitting at a 45-degree angle."
"Sound like you're living the life of Riley," Tully commented putting a new matchstick between his lips. "I brought you some bubble gum."
"Thanks, Tully, I appreciate it." Hitch took the offered bag and placed it on the table next to the bed.
"How are you feeling?" Troy asked and Moffitt and Tully joined him in saying, "FINE." Hitch gave them a weak smile and responded, "My head feels like I was hit by a truck and I'm still really weak. The doctor said it's going to take some time for me to regain my strength, but I just see that as a challenge."
"Your eyes look a little better," Moffitt commented on the unequal pupils. "I rather imagine you're going to be here for a while."
"They keep saying at least a week," Mark grumbled. "And perhaps then I'll be released for light duty while I build up my strength."
"Well, listen to the doctors, so you can get better quicker," Troy said.
"And forget the nurses," Moffitt added. Tully just twirled the matchstick between his lips and looked at his pal, "Yeah, that's gonna happen."
Mark was quickly growing tired as his yawns indicated. "We'll let you get your rest," Moffitt said. "Take care, Hitch," Troy gave the young man's shoulder a squeeze. "We'll see you in the morning before we head out again." Tully took the Agatha Christie novel from his pocket and began to read to Mark who was soon asleep.
The following morning, Tully stopped by the hospital while the sergeants were being briefed on the day's recon mission. Hitch was brushing his teeth while a nurse held a small basin of water for him. It was upsetting to see how much he struggled to hold and guide the toothbrush. Tully allowed him to finish before approaching his bed.
"Hey, Tully," he greeted his friend, looking exhausted. "Wish I was going with you. Make sure Andy takes good care of Bertha," he said weakly.
"Sure thing, Pal," Tully assured him. "You just concentrate on getting stronger so you can join us. It's not nearly as much fun without you. I want a good report from the doctor when we get back this evening."
"I'll do my best," Hitch grinned. "Believe me, I want out of here more than anyone."
"I don't know about that," Tully replied. "It's just not the same with Andy. He gets on my nerves a bit."
"Like I don't," Hitch smiled.
"It's a different kind of irritating but I'm used to you," Tully said as he left.
That evening, the Rats found Mark sitting up at a 45-degree angle and he reported that most of the dizziness was gone unless he moved too quickly; he had eaten soft but solid food and managed to keep everything down. His pupils were slowly returning to normal, and he was bored just being in bed.
"Sound like you're making progress," Troy was glad to see the improvements in his driver. "Are you leaving the nurses alone?"
"Yeah," Hitch admitted. "Honestly, I wish they would leave me alone more. They're always stopping by to check my pulse or ask how I'm doing or offering to spoon feed me or give me yet another sponge bath. I'd rather be left alone so I can rest and get stronger." The three men glanced at one another. This seemed so out of character for Hitch, the ladies' man. Normally he would milk an injury for all it was worth when nurses were around.
"Yeah, well, war is hell," Tully spoke, echoing Troy's words when Hitch had suffered a previous wound and had a nurse at his beck and call.
"I can't even read since my vision is still blurry and I have no idea where my glasses are. I guess they got lost somewhere and I'm going to need to get another pair," Hitch continued to complain.
"Maybe these will help," Troy removed the familiar wire-rimmed spectacles from his pocket and handed them to Hitch who immediately put them on and grinned. "How'd you get them?" he asked, obviously pleased.
"We found them where you left them," Moffitt teased, "along with this," he held out Hitch's red French legion hat.
"My kepi!" Hitch was grinning broadly. "I don't understand how you ended up with them."
"Are you ready to hear our part of the story?" Troy asked. "Do you feel strong enough?"
"Definitely," Hitch said, adjusting his kepi just so on his head so it didn't rub against his injury. He sat back and listened as they told what happened after Meekin shot him up until he awoke in the hospital. Hitch was disgusted when he learned Meekin had taken the jeep and left him for dead and he was outraged when he heard how the corporal had set the fuses, intending to kill the four of them. He grew quiet as he listened to Meekin's death while deserting, shaking his head and murmuring, "what a waste."
"So that's our part of the story. You're getting tired so we'll wait to hear yours when you're stronger," Troy said.
"Before you head out in the morning, could you bring me some things from my footlocker?" Hitch asked, his strength beginning to rapidly fade. "The books I was using when we talked a few weeks ago," he addressed Moffitt who nodded.
"Sure thing," Moffitt said.
"And maybe some other reading material and comics?"
"You've got it," Troy was pleased at his driver's improvement.
"Thanks," Hitch was quickly falling asleep.
"Can I ask a quick question before we leave?" Tully asked.
"Sure," Mark said, yawning widely.
"Do you like going to zoos?" Hitch looked at Tully as if he was nuts.
"The zoo?" Mark yawned again. "I guess so," he was confused. "I haven't been to one since I was a kid."
"It's okay," Tully patted him on the leg. "Get some sleep."
Chapter 5
As it turned out, the Rats mission was postponed, so they stopped by the hospital before breakfast to drop off the items Hitch had requested. They were pleased to find their youngest member sitting upright in a wheelchair.
"Well, look at you, back on wheels," Tully was pleased.
"It's not a jeep, but I can get around as long as I don't overdo," Hitch was happy.
"Here are the materials you requested," Moffitt set the items on the bedside table. "I wasn't sure what book you were reading, so I brought this one since it looks like you marked your place with a very sweet-smelling envelope." He held up the paperback from which was visible the perfumed letter he'd received several weeks earlier. Moffitt held it to his nose and said, "That really is quite nice. Glad to see the aroma still lingers."
"You didn't read it did you?" Hitch was concerned and grabbed the book.
"Of course not, Hitch. None of us would read your mail unless you gave us permission," Moffitt assured him and the three were surprised by Hitch's reaction. The wounded rat relaxed and apologized. They noticed he removed the letter from the book and put it in the pocket of the robe he was wearing.
"I'm sorry, I know you wouldn't. It's just from a very old friend and made me kind of homesick," he confessed.
"We understand, Mark," Troy said, "and we have a surprise for you. The doctor says that if we are careful and you don't over tax your strength, we can wheel you to the mess hall for breakfast."
"Really?" Mark was excited. "Can I get dressed or do I have to go in this," he tugged at the hospital robe and pajamas he was wearing.
"As you are," Troy replied, "so you can get right back into bed when we bring you back."
"That's fine with me," Mark grinned, as Tully stepped behind the chair and began to push his friend out of the hospital. "Once around the park, Jeeves," Mark joked in his best upper crust Manhattan accent, and they all laughed.
Friends called to them as they made their way down the street, offering encouragement to Mark. It was the same at the mess hall where fellow soldiers came up and wished him well in his recovery. Hitch was beaming. They settled him at a table and brought a breakfast tray with small portions of oatmeal, scrambled egg with diced Spam and a biscuit. Cookie, knowing that Hitch liked sliced peaches, included a serving especially for him.
"This looks great," Hitch was thrilled and tucked in.
"Don't eat too fast or too much," Moffitt was concerned the young man might make himself sick.
"I won't," Hitch replied taking a deep drink of coffee. "Ah, the nectar of the gods," he sighed savoring the strong, black beverage. At his remark the three older men glanced at one another. Tully started to make a comment about Zeus but thought better of it and kept quiet.
"Do you think we could go by the motor pool so I can check on Bertha?" Hitch was hopeful.
"The doctor said to the mess hall for breakfast and then back," Troy said, "maybe next time."
"Sure, Sarge. I'm just happy to be out of that hospital bed for a while." All too soon the meal was over, and they pushed the wheelchair with their friend back to the hospital.
"Thanks, guys, I really appreciate it," Mark still had a smile on his face. but it was obvious his strength was fading. As they entered the building, he stopped them. "Would you mind if I used the latrine? Those bedpans get old fast."
"Do you think you can make it?" Moffitt was worried that Hitch might not be strong enough to walk a few steps.
"Doc, I've been going to the bathroom by myself for a long time," Hitch said disparagingly.
"Okay, don't stand up too quickly or you might get dizzy or even nauseous, Moffitt warned, and the two sergeants helped the injured man slowly stand. He swayed for a moment but walked forward on semi- steady feet. By the time they reached the ward, he was ready for a nap.
"I'll make sure the mechanics did a good job with Bertha," Tully assured him.
"Thanks, Tully," Mark mumbled as he fell asleep.
As the men left the hospital, Moffitt spoke to Tully, "I saw your face when Hitch mentioned the nectar of the gods."
"It just made me wonder if he was talking about Zeus," Tully replied sheepishly.
"Forget it," Troy said, "It was just nonsense he uttered while in a fevered state. I'd hate to think you guys were analyzing anything I might have said when I was in a similar situation."
"Nah," Tully said, "you only mutter about 'sergeant stuff.' It's not that interesting." He twirled the matchstick in his mouth and with a mischievous look, he sauntered off to the motor pool.
Hitch was still sleeping when Troy returned a little after noon to escort his driver to lunch. The injured man seemed to be dreaming and his forehead was bathed in sweat. Suddenly he awakened and sat straight up. His breathing was labored, and he closed his eyes, forcing the dizziness to pass.
"Easy, Hitch," Troy soothed. "I think you were dreaming," he helped the younger man lay back on the pillows. Hitch swallowed hard and worked to calm his breathing.
"Yeah," he shuddered. "I'm okay,"
"Meekin?" Troy guessed.
"Yeah," Mark's voice was barely audible, and he looked up at Troy.
"Are you ready to talk about it?" asked the sergeant.
"No," Hitch replied, "not yet. I will, just not yet."
"Okay," Troy responded giving Mark's shoulder a little squeeze. "When you're ready. Captain Boggs wants a report from you on what happened before we found you." Hitch nodded slightly and instantly regretted moving his head. Using his sleeve, he wiped the perspiration from his brow.
"Do you feel like having lunch with us? Or would you prefer to stay here and rest?" Troy asked.
"No, I'd rather escape for a while," Hitch answered. "I promise, I'll let you know if I get too tired," he noticed the skeptical look on Troy's face.
"You'd better," Troy tried to use his stern voice, but the troubled boyish face made him soften his tone. "Let's go," he helped Hitch into the wheelchair and began to push him to the mess hall.
After an enjoyable meal, Hitch was returned to the hospital where he again fell asleep. The doctor nixed his joining them for dinner so that evening, with Hitch's blessing, they decided to go out for a few beers.
Tully soon made the acquaintance of a young off-duty nurse and excused himself from their group. After two beers, Moffitt was invited to a game of chess by a friend, leaving Troy to drink alone, but not for long. He joined a poker game and was walking back to his quarters about midnight, when he heard someone call his name.
"Sergeant Troy?" a private he'd never seen before asked.
"Yes?" Troy was already thinking of how good it was going to feel to fall into bed.
"You're wanted at the hospital. There's a problem with your man," the private explained.
"What's wrong?" Troy demanded and immediately began walking quickly. His mind was racing with all sorts of things that could have happened to Hitch. "Is he alright?"
"I don't know, sergeant. I was asked to find you and give you the message." Troy increased his pace and rapidly left the messenger behind.
The lights were dim in the hospital ward so the wounded could sleep. He noticed some screens had been placed around Hitch's bed for privacy. As he came around the screen, he found an orderly and a nurse replacing the mattress on the bed and picking up the pieces of a broken lamp and all the books that had been on the bedside table. A water pitcher had spilled on the floor and a metal drinking cup was lying on its side.
"What happened?" Troy asked in a whisper.
"Nightmare," the nurse replied, also whispering. She glanced at the corner and Troy followed her gaze to see Hitch sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. He was dressed only in his boxers, and he had his legs drawn up to his chin. His head was bowed, resting upon his folded arms atop his knees. The nurse drew Troy a few yards away from the bed and explained.
"He had a violent reaction to a nightmare during which he hit a nurse. It took several orderlies to subdue him before he woke up. He didn't mean to hit her," she said sympathetically, "he didn't know what he was doing. I've taken care of him before and he's a nice young man—very quiet and polite, in spite of being a lothario."
"Why is he undressed?" Troy asked, his usually stoic face revealing his concern for his driver.
"When he woke up, he was dizzy and disoriented, and he vomited all over himself. We've cleaned him up and are bringing some fresh pajamas. I thought you might be able to talk with him and help him understand what happened. He's blaming himself," she said. Troy nodded and walked quietly to where Mark was hunched against the wall. He knelt in front of his driver and noticed the younger man was trembling.
"Hitch?" Troy said softly.
"Oh, God, Sarge, I'm sorry they bothered you," Hitch voice was muffled and tremulous.
"It's okay, Hitch. Everything's going to be alright," Troy reassured.
"It can't be," Hitch said with a catch in his voice.
"Hitch, look at me," Troy said.
"I can't. I'm too ashamed." Hitch continued.
"There's nothing to be ashamed of," Troy began but Hitch looked up and interrupted.
"I hit her, Sarge. I hit her in the face. I would never hit a woman, ever." His blue eyes were filled with tears as he struggled to understand what had happened.
"I know you wouldn't, kid," Troy placed a hand on Hitch's shoulder. "You were having a nightmare. You didn't know what you were doing."
"Did I hurt her?" Hitch's voice was shaky, and a tear rolled down his cheek. "I hit her, Sarge. Why did I do that?"
"Hitch, look at me. You've had bad reactions to nightmares before. You've seen me and Moffitt and Tully do the same thing. It's part of the territory when you do and see what we do. It's just, we were there for one another and calmed each other down. You weren't responsible for your actions. You were asleep."
"I still hit her. Is she hurt? Can I see her?" Hitch was inconsolable.
The nurse knelt beside Troy and said, "I'm going to give him something to help him sleep. Can you help get him dressed and in bed?" Troy nodded as she swabbed Hitch's arm with alcohol and gave him the injection.
"Come on, Hitch," Troy helped the younger man stand and walked him to the bed. "Sit down and let's get you dressed. You need to get some rest. Everything will be fine in the morning."
"No!" Hitch was agitated, "If I go to sleep, I might have another nightmare. I might hurt someone else."
"No, you won't," Troy said, helping his driver into the pajama pants and then into the shirt. As he buttoned the shirt, he continued, "I'll be here with you. I'll make sure nothing happens."
"Promise?" Hitch said weakly, as Troy helped him lie down and covered him with the blanket.
"Sure thing, kid. Now you just get some rest. We'll talk more in the morning." Hitch was quickly asleep, and Troy made himself comfortable in a chair to wait out the night.
Chapter 6
Troy was dozing next to Hitch's bed when the young man awoke in the morning.
"I'm so embarrassed, Sarge," he said quietly, "and so guilty. Do you think I can talk with the nurse I hit? I need to make sure she's okay and apologize."
"I'm sure we can make that happen," Troy said. "You need to stop blaming yourself. You weren't responsible for what happened."
"I know you're just trying to make me feel better, but I hit her. It was my fault." Hitch still blamed himself.
"I have to report to Captain Boggs. We'll talk later, okay?" Troy stood.
"Are you going out on patrol?" Hitch was anxious and angered that he wouldn't be going.
"Don't know," Troy replied. "You take it easy, and we'll be by later."
There was no joining his pals for breakfast or lunch in the mess hall. Time seemed to drag slowly for Hitch as he replayed the events of the previous night and fell prey to deeper and deeper humiliation, shame, and anger with himself.
Mid-morning, the nurse he had struck came to talk with him. She had a black eye, and her cheek was bruised but thankfully, her nose and teeth were intact. Hitch apologized profusely, cursing himself for causing her injury. She reassured him that he wasn't at fault; he was in the midst of a nightmare, and not conscious of, or in control of his actions. She readily granted the forgiveness for which he begged. This seemed to calm the young private, but he was still filled with self-contempt.
"Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?" he asked sincerely without a trace of innuendo. She smiled at him, thought for a moment, and replied,
"I hear you are quite the piano player. How about sometime, when you are well, you take me for a drink at Remy's and play me some boogie woogie? And maybe throw in a Lindy Hop-no strings attached?"
"Sure thing," gave a slight smile, "but that sounds more like a pleasure than a penance."
"Oh, I don't know, you haven't seen me dance," she remarked.
"You get some rest and remember, we're square." She tucked the blanket around him and left to resume her duties.
Hitch finally relaxed enough to take a short nap before having his lunch. Later that day, he was sitting upright in bed, re-reading the sweetly smelling letter when his friends appeared.
"You're looking better," Troy commented. "Did you have a chance to speak with the nurse?"
"Yeah," Mark replied, holding the letter in his lap. "We're good but I still feel guilty as sin."
"Let it go, Hitch. She's right. I know it's your nature, but you need to stop feeling so responsible about everything," Tully chided his friend.
"Thanks a lot," Hitch said sarcastically. As he shifted his position, the letter envelope fluttered to the floor. Tully picked it up and handed it to Hitch, who refolded the letter, returned it to the envelope, and placed it on top of his books on the bedside table.
"Has your vision improved?" Moffitt asked. "It looks like your pupils are almost even again."
"Yeah. Thanks again for bringing the reading materials." Hitch said. Several nurses and orderlies came into the ward and busily straightened bed linens, items on bedside tables, etc. They removed the screens around Hitch's bed and made sure everything was tidy.
"What's going on?" Tully asked an orderly.
"Captain Boggs is headed this way. Could be an inspection, we don't know," the man replied. Moments later Captain Boggs entered the room followed by a secretary, Lt. Matthews, carrying a steno pad and pencil. The captain visited with each injured man, saving Hitch for last.
"Well, private, you're looking much better than the last time I checked on you. How are you feeling?" the captain asked.
With a quick, somewhat sheepish glance at Troy, Hitch replied, "I'm improving, sir, getting stronger every day."
"Do you feel like answering a few questions?" said Captain Boggs.
"Yes, sir," Hitch had a sinking feeling he knew what was coming.
"I've heard your team's report of what happened after they found both you and Meekin. I'd like to hear your part of the mission," the captain explained. "Lt. Matthews is going to take down your story in shorthand, then he'll type it up for you to sign so you don't have to worry about writing the report yourself. Do you approve?"
"Yes, sir," Hitch answered quietly.
"Proceed at your own pace," Captain Boggs, Lt. Matthews and the three Rats made themselves comfortable in chairs placed by the orderlies.
Hitch closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, he took a moment to gather his words.
"First, I need to place myself on report, sir," be began.
"For what, private?" Boggs asked.
"Two things, sir," Hitch continued. "I failed to complete my mission and I didn't follow the chain of command." Captain Boggs admired the young man's conscientiousness and replied,
"As far as I'm concerned, the mission was completed. Perhaps not in the way we had planned, but the fuses were tested and worked. As for the other, I'll wait and hear your report before I decide what action to take.
"Yes, sir," Hitch began telling of how their convoy carrying the test fuses were ambushed by a German patrol. He told of how all the trucks, except the one carrying the fuses, were destroyed and the deaths of so many of their crew. His voice became softer and more hesitant as he spoke of moving their .50-caliber gun to a higher vantage point after the German shells got too close.
"I noticed we were getting low on ammo, and I told Meekin to get another box from the truck." Hitch closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. He paused and bit his lower lip before continuing, "Meekin said something about how we should just take the jeep and get away. I shouted at him to get the ammo. When he didn't react, I shouted for him to "move." He started for the jeep," Hitch breathed deeply and let it out slowly. "I screamed for him to get away from the jeep. Before I realized what he was doing, he drew his pistol and shot me." Hitch stopped for a moment while re-living what had happened. "I think I heard the jeep start and drive away. That's all I remember until I woke up here. Sarge has told me how they found me, but I don't know why the Germans took me with them unless they thought they could make me show them how the fuses worked. I guess that's about it."
"Thank you, private. I think you acted admirably and courageously. You knew what needed to be done, when Corporal Meekin behaved cowardly and neglected his duty. I believe you behaved appropriately and are not guilty of ordering a soldier of higher rank. I'm very proud to have you as part of my division."
"Thank you, sir," Hitch swallowed hard. A nurse approached and addressed the captain,
"Excuse me, sir, I need to take the patient's vital signs," she said sticking a thermometer under Hitch's tongue and taking his wrist to check his pulse. She made notes on his chart, then listened to his heart through her stethoscope. When she finished, she removed the thermometer and wrote again on his chart.
"Still running a low fever but you're doing very well. I'll be back in a bit for your bath."
"Could I possibly take a shower, instead?" Hitch asked and the men sitting around him glanced at each other. Hitch refusing a sponge bath by a pretty nurse? Had the world begun spinning backwards?
"I think so," the nurse answered, somewhat disappointed. "I'll check with the doctor."
"Thanks," Hitch said without his usual female-melting smile. "I just still feel gritty from the desert." She nodded and moved on to the next patient.
"Well, Private Hitchcock, Lt. Matthews will get the report ready for you to sign and I will check on you again in a few days/"
"Thank you, sir," Hitch replied, obviously drained of energy.
Captain Boggs, Lt. Matthews and the three Rats walked away. Once outside the building, the captain stopped and addressed Troy, "Well that was weird. I never thought I'd hear any soldier, especially Hitchcock, turn down a sponge bath. Your private is suffering, Troy, and I expect you to find out what's wrong. He's too fine a man to lose."
"We'll help him through this," Troy assured the commanding officer. When the captain walked away, the three men returned to their injured Rat's bedside, only to find him asleep.
"The captain's right," Tully said, "That really was weird. If I didn't know better, I'd wonder if Hitch hadn't been replaced by a double."
"Definitely, out of character," Moffitt agreed. "Shall we grab a beer and discuss how we can best help Hitch." A short time later, they were sitting at a table enjoying a beer at Remy's tavern.
"Okay, before we start figuring out how to help Hitch, I just wanted to ask if you two noticed anything about the letter he was reading? The one that smells so good."
"What do you mean?" asked Moffitt.
"The return address was someplace in France," Tully shared with his sergeants.
"France?" Troy was surprised.
"Yeah. That's not all," Tully continued, "Before he folded it and put it back in the envelope, I noticed it was written in French." This caused some eyebrows to be raised in surprise by both Troy and Moffitt.
"Well," Troy spoke, "He's never mentioned it but according to his service file, Hitch has some school credits in Advanced French as well as some Spanish. I don't know anything about a Frenchwoman, but he's probably got them all over the place."
"He did spend some time with the French legion, teaching them about ordinance before coming to Africa. They gave him the kepi as a gift. Maybe it's someone he met there," Moffitt suggested.
"Maybe they went to a zoo together," Tully grinned.
Their conversation ended with the arrival of a messenger from Captain Boggs asking them to report to his office.
After dinner, the three men returned to the hospital to visit with Hitch. They found him sitting up in bed, reading a comic book and blowing bubbles with his gum. He looked fresh from a shower and his blond hair gleamed in the lamplight.
"We're leaving early in the morning on assignment," Troy told him, "We'll be gone 3-4 days at best. I wish you were able to go with us but since you can't, I hope you work on getting your strength back and doing what the doctor's say."
"I wish I was going too," Hitch popped a bubble.
"It's not the same without you, Hitch," Tully said.
"I find I actually miss the smell of your gum," Moffitt smiled.
"And your coffee is much better than that weak stuff Tully makes," Troy added with a grin. Both he and Hitch liked their coffee strong and black. "Will you be okay while we're gone," Troy's mother hen was coming out, especially after the nightmare the previous night.
"Sure, Sarge," Hitch said, trying to sound confident.
"Are you ready to talk about it, yet?" he asked. Hitch thought for a moment and realized if he didn't share his thoughts now, he would have to wait several days before talking things over with his friends. Sighing deeply, he put away the comic, looked at his fellow Rats and said,
"Yeah, I guess so." The three made themselves comfortable in chairs around his bed and waited for him to speak. After a pause while he collected his thoughts, Hitch began, "I just can't understand being that afraid. I mean, I get scared. Shoot, I get scared on every mission, but I don't let it get the best of me. How could Meekin do what he did? He shot me and took off. He deserted his duty to save his own life and left me to die. How could he do that? I'm used to getting shot at by the enemy but it's a bit much when someone on your own side shoots you." Hitch was becoming agitated. "And then, when I think about how he set those fuses to blow us all up, I just don't get it. I can't understand being so desperate or doing such a despicable thing." Hitch shook his head despairingly and chomped vigorously on his gum.
"You're a much better man than Meekin could ever hope to be," Troy said softly. "It's okay to be scared, all of us face fears whenever we have a mission, but we keep it in check. Meekin was a coward, through and through. He didn't value anyone's life except his own."
"And he died a coward's death, shot in the back while running away." Tully commented.
"I just keep seeing a flash as he shot me. That's what my nightmare was about. How can someone just run away in the middle of a battle" Mark continued.
"Troy and Tully are both right," Moffitt joined the conversation. "Meekin didn't understand friendship or loyalty. We do, that's why we always have each other's back. How many times have we had to order you to leave one of us behind when the situation called for it. You have a strong sense of duty and responsibility. You would never consider deserting your mission."
"Yeah, we might leave one of our own behind but its only to get into a better position so we can go back to rescue them," Tully said.
"I'm trying to put it behind me," Hitch assured his friends, "but I think it's going to take a while. And knowing what all you guys did to get me to the hospital for medical attention, Meekin just left me not knowing if I was dead or alive. I keep thinking how he almost killed all of you with those fuses. He didn't care. He only thought of his own safety."
"And he got what he deserved," Troy was firm. "None of this was your fault, Hitch. Meekin was a despicable man, and I won't waste my time feeling sorry for what happened to him. I hope you can put this behind you, Hitch. You have to so you can go back out with us."
"The way I see it, you have some goals to achieve," Moffitt said. "You need to build up your strength, get over the dizziness & nausea, let your wound heal, get rid of the fever, and put Meekin behind you. Then you can reclaim Bertha and rejoin us in our missions. I have faith in you to accomplish these things. What do you think?"
Hitch gave a small half-smile and said, "I'll work on it while you're gone.
"I know you will," Troy agreed. "Now, how about some matchstick poker before we have to turn in?"
"Sarge," Hitch asked. "You will be back by Friday, won't you?"
"We should be back by Thursday. What's going on? Troy was curious.
"Nothing," Hitch said unconvincingly. "Just wondering." They played poker until Hitch became too tired to continue. Troy stayed with him a while after Moffitt and Tully returned to their quarters. Around midnight, he arose to leave. He pressed the young man's shoulder and whispered, "Take care, Hitch. I want to see you much better when we return."
Chapter 7
Hitch was determined to meet the goals Moffitt had mentioned while his team was on patrol. The nausea was gone, and he was only dizzy if he stood suddenly. The pain in his head was beginning to subside unless he moved too much. He was still running a low-grade fever. He was getting stronger and began taking short walks around the wards, visiting the other patients, and trying to cheer them up. Soon the doctor allowed him to walk around the block, but only if he used a cane in case he had a dizzy spell. He would use the cane until he left the hospital, then carried it beneath his arm.
He read his books and completed all the correspondence lessons he had and mailed them to Cornell. He signed the typed report Lt. Matthews brought and wrote a letter to his parents. After two days, he was bored. and a bored Hitch was not a good thing.
Late afternoon on the second day, a large number of new patients were brought in from a recent battle. The doctor made his rounds later than usual. Hitch was curious about what was going on, so he asked questions, and learned the details of the battle, how many were killed and how many wounded.
"Any serious injuries?" he asked as the doctor checked his eyes.
"A few," the doctor answered. "Some bad bullet and shrapnel injuries that required surgery. One that's very troubling and we're not sure how we're going to treat it."
"What happened?" Hitch was concerned.
"A young lieutenant took a load of shrapnel that badly tore his diaphragm. We've stitched it up but it's difficult for him to breathe on his own. We're afraid he'll stop breathing before the muscle can heal. We've got him in an oxygen tent but he's finding it difficult to draw a deep breath."
Hitch was quiet for a moment while the doctor made notes on his chart. "What about a negative pressure vacuum like an iron lung to breathe for him until he heals?" Hitch suggested.
"An iron lung would help immensely but unfortunately; I don't think there's one in all of Africa." the doctor agreed. "Keep up the good work, private. You're doing well." He moved to the next patient.
Hitch sat lost in thought for a time before taking a pad and pencil from his bedside table. He pulled his knees to his chest to support the notepad and began to draw.
The next morning, a nurse brought Hitch's breakfast tray and discovered his bed empty. The wheelchair was there but the cane was gone so she thought he had gone to the latrine. An hour later, he still hadn't returned so the staff began looking about the hospital in case he was visiting other patients.
Another hour went by before the private walked into the ward carrying his cane under his arm. Seeing a nurse, he immediately began using it correctly.
"Private Hitchcock!" the nurse scolded. "Where have you been? We've been searching everywhere for you."
"I need to see the doctor," Hitch said excitedly.
"I'm sure he's got plenty to say to you as well," she made sure he was back in his bed. "I'll bring you another tray, this one is cold," she said.
"I'm sorry If I caused any trouble. I just really need to see the doctor," Hitch insisted.
"I'll let him know but he does have other patients," the nurse was not happy with the private.
Hitch waited impatiently. He kept looking at some pages in his notebook and occasionally made a notation. He unwrapped a piece of gum and began chewing energetically. He looked up when the doctor came.
"I've been thinking about your shrapnel patient," he said before the doctor could speak, "The one who has difficulty breathing. We can build a makeshift iron lung to breathe for him until his diaphragm heals." He showed his drawings and notations to the doctor who examined them carefully. "I've been to the motor pool and supply. We have all the materials we need. It will be crude, but it will work."
"How did you design this?" The doctor was amazed.
"I was studying mechanical engineering before I enlisted," Hitch said modestly.
"And you say, we have all the necessary materials?" asked the doctor and Hitch nodded. "Do we have the men to build it?"
"Yes," Hitch said. "I've spoken to some guys who have the skills needed and made a list of their names and the necessary supplies. I can oversee and help with the project. I think we can have it done in a few hours once we gather everything we need. We could put it in that little room used for isolation cases.
"Private, do I need to remind you, that you are a patient," the doctor was unsure. "You're recovering from a concussion."
"I can do this, Doc. It could mean life or death for your patient. I can rest once we get that lieutenant taken care of. What do you say?" Hitch was anxious to get to work. The doctor reluctantly agreed and assigned 2 orderlies to help Hitch gather the necessary materials and personnel.
By 7:00 p.m. they transferred the lieutenant into the makeshift iron lung. Hitch turned on the motor switch and the apparatus began with surprisingly little noise. The doctor checked his patient and was amazed to see it was working. The lieutenant's breathing was deeper and easier. He managed to nod to the doctor before falling asleep.
"Thank you, private," the doctor said to Hitch. "This is better than I could have hoped. It should breathe for him until his diaphragm heals."
"Glad, I could help," Hitch said in a tired voice. "If it's okay with you, I'm going to bed." Mark was asleep by the time his head hit the pillow, and he slept deeply and undisturbed until the following morning.
Chapter 8
The next day, Hitch wrote some letters and visited the other patients. He stopped at the door of the isolation room to make sure his contraption was still working. The lieutenant had round-the-clock nursing and the young woman on duty glanced up from her book when Hitch appeared.
"I just wanted to see how he was doing," he explained.
"Thanks to you, he's doing much better than expected. You saved his life," she said.
"I just wanted to help," Hitch blushed slightly. "I'll sit with him if you'd like a break."
"Thank you, I would like that. If he wakes up and needs anything, just let me know," she smiled.
Hitch sat in the chair she vacated and opened the paperback he carried in his robe pocket. A few minutes later the lieutenant opened his eyes. Noticing Hitch, he struggled to speak.
"Try to talk when you exhale. It should be easier," Hitch explained. "I'm Private Mark Hitchcock."
"Lieutenant Dan Weatherly," the patient managed to say quietly. "Can you tell me about this?"
"Sure," Hitch explained how they built the iron lung from empty oil drums, vacuum cleaners, and assorted parts from around the base and how it worked. "You shouldn't have to stay in it very long; just until your muscles heal a bit."
"Thanks," Lt. Weatherly was grateful.
"Would you like me to read to you? I've got a murder mystery that's pretty good." Hitch offered.
"I'd like that a lot," the lieutenant replied, and Hitch began to read. The nurse entered as Weatherly fell asleep. Hitch left the book with her and returned to his bed.
It was Thursday and Hitch was looking forward to his team returning by evening. He tried to keep himself busy, but he kept checking his watch. He was re-reading his perfumed letter again when Captain Boggs approached his bed.
"Private Hitchcock. You're looking much better," he commented.
"Thank you, sir, I'm feeling much better," Hitch answered.
"I've just spoken with the doctor and seen Lt. Weatherly. That's quite a machine you put together," the captain said.
"I had a lot of help, sir," Hitch replied.
"Your idea and action saved his life, and you saved me from having to write a condolence letter to his family, a duty I detest," the captain continued.
"I was glad to help. It kept me out of trouble," Hitch commented.
"I think we can all agree that's a good thing," the captain smiled. "I'd like you to let me know if there's anything I can get you or do for you."
"Thank you, sir," an idea seemed to come to Hitch. "Actually, captain, there is a favor I would ask." He outlined his request to the captain who granted it willingly.
After lunch, and without permission, Hitch took a walk to the barber shop and got a haircut. He stopped by his quarters and pulled a clean uniform from his locker. At the hospital he gathered his toiletries to shower and shave. Dressed in fresh pajamas, he impatiently waited for his patrol's return. After several hours, he realized they were going to be late. He wasn't worried, he knew how quickly things could change while on patrol. He hoped they would return by the following day. He missed them when they weren't around.
Friday morning, Hitch awoke. He quickly got out of bed and was overcome by dizziness. He swallowed hard to keep his stomach from revolting. He sat on the edge of the bed and waited for the dizzy spell to pass. His head throbbed and he cursed himself for moving too fast. After breakfast, he was visited by some friends in the motor pool who asked if he was going to the USO show that evening.
"What show?" Hitch seemed confused, "Remember, I've been in the hospital for a week."
"The USO is putting on a show tonight, in one of the empty warehouses," his friend explained. "It's not Bob Hope, but its sure to have some pretty girls and good music."
"One of the singers is Isla MacKenzie," his second friend said. "I've got her record of Why Don't You Do Right? She sounds sexy. And she dances with the Rockettes. Maybe all the Rockettes will be there. Will they let you out of the hospital to come to the show?"
"I sure hope so," Hitch said. "I could do with hearing a sexy singer and watching some high kicks."
He checked on Lt. Weatherly who thanked him for the book. The nurse was reading it to him, and it helped keep his mind occupied. Hitch promised he would visit again. He spoke to some other patients then decided to check out the preparations for the USO show. Grabbing his cane, he headed in the direction of some nearby empty warehouses. One was busy with preparations for the show that evening.
He glanced through the door and saw men finishing a stage. There were musicians practicing and a comedian working on his material. Smiling to himself, he returned to the hospital and took a nap.
The Rat Patrol drove through the base gates mid-afternoon. Troy and Moffitt got out of the jeeps at headquarters, covered in dust. Tully and Andy were about to take the jeeps to the motor pool when a guard said,
"I'll take your jeep, Pettigrew," he said. "The captain wants to see you too." Tully got out of the jeep and glanced at his sergeants who shrugged. They tried to brush some of the dust from their uniforms and went to see Captain Boggs.
After a preliminary report, the captain thanked them for the information, asked a few questions and then said,
"Your written reports can wait until tomorrow. Right now, I want you to return to your quarters, shower, shave, and put on clean uniforms. Make sure your boots are polished and your nails clean." The three Rats shared a confused look. "Then, you are to report to Private Hitchcock in the hospital. He will have your orders for the evening. Dismissed."
Once out of headquarters, Tully asked, "What was that all about?"
"No idea," Moffitt was at a loss, a rare occurrence.
"He seemed pretty serious," Troy agreed. "Wonder if Hitch has been cleared for duty?"
"I don't believe we would be meeting him at the hospital if that were true," Moffitt was trying to understand.
"And why would we have to get spruced up to see Hitch?" Tully asked.
"Well, we've got our orders, let's go." Troy said.
Chapter 9
They entered their quarters where they were surprised to find clean uniforms, neatly pressed, and laid out on their bunks.
"This is getting weird," Tully commented.
An hour later they emerged from their barracks looking sharper than they had looked in a long time. Their pants and shirts were ironed and sharply creased, boots shined, and ties tied. The Americans smelled like Old Spice while Moffitt was scented with Pinaud Clubman. Troy wore his bush hat, Moffitt his beret and Tully sported a garrison cap instead of his combat helmet. They received a lot of stares as they walked to the hospital. Their missions usually kept them pretty dirty, dusty, and sweaty. They weren't used to being this clean and well-groomed.
At the hospital, Hitch was vigorously chewing his gum, pacing, and glancing at his watch. He twisted his kepi as he waited. He was every bit as creased and polished as his team. He breathed a sigh of relief as his fellow Rats came through the door.
"I was afraid you might not make it," Hitch said with a smile.
"What's this all about?" Troy asked.
"It's a surprise," Hitch said sheepishly.
"I don't much care for surprises," Tully replied.
"Well, you're getting it whether you want it or not," Hitch teased.
"Exactly, what are we getting, Hitch?" Moffitt asked.
"Come with me," Hitch adjusted his kepi and led the way from the hospital. Along the way, they saw posters plastered everywhere for the USO show that was scheduled to start in 30 minutes.
As they entered the converted warehouse, they saw soldiers sitting on benches and the floor waiting for the show to start. A special section was roped off for ambulatory hospital patients and officers. About halfway down, and to the side, a small table and four chairs were cordoned off with a sign saying, "Reserved for the Rat Patrol."
"How did you manage this?" Troy was amazed.
"Let's just say, I took advantage of a favor offered," Hitch explained. They seated themselves on the chairs and watched as soldiers continued to pour into the building, talking excitedly as they anticipated the show.
"Did you do something we should know about?" Moffitt was suspicious. "Were you in any trouble while we were gone."
"No way, Doc. I was in the hospital," Hitch protested. "I guess I should tell you there's more," he confessed. "After the show, we have a private table and dinner reservations at Remy's place."
Troy wiped his clean-shaven face with his hand and cast a stern eye on his private.
"Are you sure you didn't cause any trouble while we were on patrol?"
"Who was there, Sarge, you, or me? Honest. I kept myself busy and out of trouble," Hitch insisted.
"I think you're scaring me a mite," Tully was skeptical.
"Nothing bad is going to happen so just relax and enjoy the dancing girls," Hitch grinned at his friend.
"There's dancing girls?" Tully was interested.
"Not just any dancing girls, my friend, but Radio City Music Hall Rockettes," Hitch informed him. Tully mused on this information and announced,
"Well, a little bit of trouble would be okay," he observed.
The lights in the makeshift theater went out. The few windows had been covered with tarps blocking the sunlight and keeping away some of the heat. A spotlight came on and a man walked out onstage. He greeted the men and outlined the show they were about to see.
"And now, to get things started, we are fortunate to have eight of the world-famous Radio City Music Hall Rockettes with us this evening. So relax and enjoy the show! More spotlights hit the stage and eight long-legged women, in short costumes danced in from the wings. The men went wild applauding and whistling as they began their intricate routine. They were followed by a magician, a trio of dancers, and a comedian. The M.C. came to the microphone and announced,
"Get ready to see something I'll wager you have never seen before. You know she can sing from her hit record, but she's also an accomplished dancer, presenting, Miss Isla MacKenzie!"
The spotlight landed on a tall, lithe young woman with auburn curls and a brilliant smile, dressed in a short, skirted costume. Instead of tap shoes, she had ballet pointe shoes laced about her shapely ankles. The crowd liked what they were seeing and were amazed when she began tap dancing on pointe. It was a spirited number including some leaps, quick turns, acrobatics and four male back-up dancers who lifted and tossed Miss MacKenzie about the stage. Tully and Hitch were clapping loudly with wide grins on their faces and Moffitt was impressed with her talent. Troy enjoyed watching his men's reactions as they relaxed. He could feel the tension leaving his shoulders and he wondered if there was some way to meet Miss MacKenzie after the show.
A barbershop quartet followed and then a second comedian. The Rockettes did another number and a women's trio sang several songs by the Andrews Sisters, including Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy. MissMacKenzie took the stage and performed a bagpipe solo of Scotland the Brave and the haunting, Skye Boat Song. A hypnotist involved some of the men in the audience followed by a female soloist, and an impressionist. Miss MacKenzie was once again in the spotlight, dressed in a ballet tutu. She began to dance to "The Sugar Plum Fairy" from The Nutcracker Ballet. While she was dancing very properly, behind her were several guys doing a slapstick routine with building scenery and ladders. The men laughed at the shenanigans and showed their appreciation with loud applause.
A baritone sang several patriotic tunes. Miss MacKenzie played a harp solo, and the band played several Benny Goodman numbers before the Rockettes performed again. The M.C. did his comedy routine and then announced,
"You've seen her dance, you've heard her hit record, please welcome back, Miss Isla MacKenzie!" The young woman came to center stage wearing a silver, sequined evening gown with a high slit. The spotlight made it sparkle and she began singing, Why Don't You Do Right? Instead of singing it upbeat as Benny Goodman had written, she slowed it down and sang in a deep, sultry voice that captivated the men watching. When she finished with a long, breathy note, they leapt to their feet applauding and whistling eagerly. She thanked them and once they quieted she began, Isn't it Romantic? followed by, There'll Be Bluebirds Over, the White Cliffs of Dover. The latter brought a lump to Moffitt's throat which he cleared loudly. The applause was deafening between each number and took a few minutes for the crowd to grow quiet.
"On behalf of our crew," she said in a voice tinged with a slight Scottish accent, "we'd like to thank all of you for attending our show. We hope you enjoyed it (thunderous applause). It's has been an honor for us to perform for you and we are so grateful for your service to our country. I have a dear friend serving in the Army (more applause) and I'd like to close with a song that is very meaningful to us, this one's for you, Tadpole." In a voice filled with emotion she sang I'll Be Seeing You.
The men jumped up, clapping loudly, whistling, and stomping their feet when she finished. She blew them a kiss and flashed a wide smile. More spotlights came on and the entire cast came on stage for the finale, You're a Grand Old Flag & God Bless America. Bows were taken by the individual acts with the Rockettes receiving the loudest applause until Miss MacKenzie came out.
"Encore, Encore," the men began shouting rhythmically, until finally, the stage cleared, and she was alone in the spotlight.
"You sure make it hard for a girl to leave," she said, and the men clapped noisily. She broke into, You Made Me Love You and they listened with rapt attention. "Goodnight, and God bless you all," she blew another kiss and waved before running off stage. The hall lights came on, and the men began filing out, heading to the mess hall for a late dinner.
"I say," Moffitt spoke as they waited for the crowd to thin before leaving. "she's rather smashing,"
"Yeah, she is," Hitch had a big grin on his face.
"Thanks for arranging this," Troy said, "And don't even think about going after Miss MacKenzie. The USO has very strict rules regarding their female performers."
"Not a problem, Sarge," Hitch crossed his heart with a sincere look on his face. "I think she's a bit out of my league."
"I mean it, Hitch," Troy growled.
"Don't forget, we have dinner at Remy's," Tully interrupted as they exited the building and began walking to their favorite bar.
After a while, Hitch stopped to sit on a low wall, and said, "Would you mind if we took a break, I'm feeling a bit tired."
"Sure," Moffitt said, "Are you sure you aren't trying to do too much?"
"No, I'm fine," Hitch assured them, "Just need a breather."
"Where's the cane you're supposed to be using," Troy asked, realizing it was missing.
"I must have left it at the table," Hitch said chagrined.
"I'll run back and get it," Tully said and took off walking quickly. Troy lit a cigarette and the three discussed the show until Tully returned with the cane. Hitch thanked him, checked his watch, and they continued their stroll to Remy's.
Chapter 10
Inside the bar, the record player was churning out continuous popular music. Remy came out from behind the bar and led them to a private area in the back with a beaded curtain. A table had been set with a linen tablecloth, candles and five chairs. A door leading to the outside was on the side wall.
"This is pretty fancy," Tully remarked. "How exactly did you arrange this?" He was growing suspicious.
"I had no idea they would go to this much trouble," Hitch was pleased.
"Ok, Hitch, come clean," Troy said. At that moment, the outside door opened, and Miss MacKenzie entered, flanked by two armed guards. Her shiny, deep, red hair was braided and coiled about her head and her skin was like pale porcelain. She was as tall as or perhaps even taller than Troy with a slim, athletic build, a tiny waist, and swan-like neck. Her legs seemed to go on forever. Wide deep green eyes were framed by dark double lashes, and she was dressed in a USO volunteer's uniform. The smell of expensive perfume wafted in with her and they recognized the scent of the mysterious letter. Hitch went to greet her, and the two guards stepped between them.
"It's alright," she told them, "He's a friend." They stepped back and stood alert next to the door. The two friends embraced and kissed one another on each cheek. She stepped back to look at him.
"Look at you, so grown up," she stroked his cheek and beamed at him. "But you've been hurt," she noticed the gauze taped to his temple and the healing bruises on his face.
"It's nothing, I promise," he whispered. "I'll tell you about it later. You look stunning and your performance was breathtaking. Come, meet my friends."
"Your Rat friends?" she asked excitedly. "They came?"
"Of course," Hitch said taking her by the arm and leading her to the table where the three men stood.
"Sarge, Doc, Tully, I'd like you to meet my oldest and dearest friend in the world," Hitch said proudly with a wicked grin, "This is Zu-Zu."
"Zoos," Tully muttered and grinned in return. "Well, Hitch, you sure made a monkey out of me."