The Switch
Disclaimer: If you recognize it then I don't own it.
A/N: For Whumptober 2023 #19 "I'll take one final step, all you have to do is make me."
"I'm not as stupid as you think I am."
Sergeant Troy had put in a request to transfer Moffitt to his unit permanently and the Englishman had asked to stay fighting with the Rat Patrol against the Germans in North Africa. Both the Americans and the British had approved the arrangement and the Rat Patrol was once again permanently four members strong. They had all worked together well, successfully finding and blowing up the ammunition dump before the enemy could get their hands on it. It should have been an easy adjustment after it became official to become a cohesive unit with their new British member. But there had been a hitch in the plan.
Private Mark Hitchcock had been good friends with Cotter, the man that Moffitt had replaced, and was having a difficult time riding with the newcomer. Troy had naturally paired up the two college boys, figuring they would enjoy having stimulating conversations while driving. Tully had been his driver for some time and he and the quiet Kentuckian worked well together and so had Hitch and Cotter before his death. The American Sergeant thought he could easily slot Moffitt in as Hitch's new gunner with no issue. He had been wrong. The longer the two worked together in the same jeep the more they disagreed and nitpicked each other's actions done in the heat of battle. So far they worked well enough when the lead was flying but outside of missions seemed to rub each other wrong like sand in your boot.
Troy had always prided himself in knowing his guys. Not just how they drove or fired a gun or would react in battle but how they were as people and with each other. He knew when Tully got into a jam on base and when Hitch was getting ready to pull one of his hair-brained stunts. Knowing his men as more than soldiers helped keep his little unit alive far behind the enemy line when improvising with what they had could make all the difference. He was still getting to know Jack Moffitt. He knew his fellow Sergeant was smart, there was no question about his intelligence. But the man was often too smart for his own good, recklessly throwing himself into danger because he thought he knew better. With Moffitt defying orders on one side and Hitch questioning them on the other it was a wonder the Rat Patrol got anything done at all.
They had just hit a German convoy and were on their way back to base. After crossing over back into the safety of their own line Troy had signaled for a stop. They had been working nonstop, spending more time behind enemy lines than their own. The group's nerves were shot and they were exhausted, dirty, and hot. Their well-deserved break couldn't come too soon. The unit was fraying at the seams.
"They're at it again," Tully said quietly, inclining his head towards the fighting pair in the other jeep.
Troy sighed feeling tired down to his bones, "They're going to get someone killed if they don't knock it off." He was in charge but he didn't know how to smooth things over between his men. He didn't know how to make them get along better. He had hoped given more time they would figure it out themselves, but it just seemed to be getting worse the longer they drove together.
"Private Hitchcock, I believe that is not the point. If you would have only stayed on course."
"Calm down, Sarge," Hitch waved him off, "I'm sure you could have hit the target if I was driving real slow next to the Jerries so they could have shot us full of holes."
"Don't call me Sarge."
"Oh right you a doctor, wrote your thesis and everything."
"I am a soldier just like you." Moffitt loomed over the American, "I have been at war while you were still safe in secondary school."
Hitch stepped up to him, meeting his challenge, "I wouldn't even be here if you British could have stopped Hitler at Dunkirk. I've lost good friends because you guys got scared and ran away."
"You weren't there at Dunkirk. You can't even comprehend what it's like to watch your country be attacked and your home destroyed," Moffitt hissed quietly, "You are a child meddling in things you don't understand."
"Easy, buddy," Tully pulled Hitch back away from the British Sergeant he looked like he wanted to hit. While Moffitt wasn't an officer, it probably still wouldn't be good for a lowly private to hit an NCO. Hitch so blinded by fatigue and anger took a swing at his fellow countryman and wheelman. Tully, not one to take being pushed around, jumped up from the sand, fists raised ready to take on his friend.
"Knock it off," Troy bellowed, intervening as the man in charge as the situation continued to deteriorate. "Are we not doing enough fighting with the Jerries that you have to fight with each other too?"
"Who was there, you or me?" Hitch asked angrily.
"Go keep watch, Hitchcock," Troy ordered, watching the youngest member of his team storm off up a dune.
"I'm sorry, Troy," Moffitt apologized shamefacedly, "I shouldn't have lost my temper."
"I'll talk to him," Troy promised.
"That's alright, Troy" Moffitt said, "I need to apologize."
"I run this capper, remember?" Troy couldn't help but joke. He was glad to see his fellow Sergeant step up and take responsibility, he knew some NCOs and officers who would never admit they were wrong. Moffitt had always been good at admitting when he was wrong. It made being the leader of this ragtag bunch just a little bit easier.
"And I offer advice."
"Well, what do you advise, Doctor?"
"With all due respect, Troy. I need to handle this on my own or the others will never learn to trust me."
"Anyone care for a game?" The Englishman asked his American companions as they settled in for the night. The four men were too tired to hit the town so to speak but instead decided to spend a quiet evening together. Hitch was reading, Troy was responding to letters, Tully was cleaning his gun and Moffitt had set up a chessboard. Moffitt looked to Hitch with expectation. As a fellow member of the higher education, he figured the younger man enjoyed the game of strategy. The two had talked and exchanged apologies on the drive over to camp. They still weren't fans of being in the same jeep with each other but they had reached some sort of armistice. After a shower, food, and some rest they all almost felt human again. The easy atmosphere and comradery they usually shared had come back like a breath of fresh air.
Hitch grimaced at the game, but reluctantly left his comic to sit across from Moffitt. He hated chess but he promised himself he would try harder to get along with the Englishman. For the good of the unit if nothing else. The older man always tried to talk to him about school stuff. He hated talking about school stuff, it made him feel like he was still in school. There was a reason he'd dropped out to join the Army. Mostly to serve his country and stop the Nazis but also to get out of lectures. He wished Moffitt would talk about guns, girls, or any book besides the dreaded classics. Dime store westerns or comics would be preferred. The rigidness of the military gave him more freedom and joy than his home life or school ever did. He felt the Sarge eyeing him so he diligently played a round of chess but quickly lost and happily went back to his reading.
Moffitt turned to Troy, as the next most likely player, asking if he'd like to play and the two quickly became engrossed in the game, matching each other move for move. Tully watched from the corner of his eye as the game progressed. He didn't figure Moffitt would be asking him. He probably thought he was sparing his feelings. Tully didn't know how to play but he wouldn't mind learning.
Tully was proud of his abilities, but schooling wasn't one of them. He was a very good wheelman in the words of the Sarge. He was a crack-shot and good with explosives. He could do most things that were asked of him from killing an enemy sentry to keeping engines running far behind the German lines with not much more than Hitch's bubblegum holding things together. His formal education was severely lacking. He had been forced to drop out young when the Depression got bad. He started working as a 'shine runner long before it was even legal for him to drive, not that moonshine was legal anyway.
He knew when he opened his mouth most people just saw an uneducated hillbilly. It had been hard enough when he first met Hitch, but the kid had quickly thrown off his Ivy Leauger air and embraced being an enlisted man. The two drivers had quickly overcome their social classes and become good friends. Moffitt was been diffrent. He was a doctor for hell's sake. The Kentuckian kept his distance, never having much interaction with the man, but always staying in the background close enough to listen. Moffitt seemed to know everything. Tully would listen to everything he said, soaking up knowledge like the sand did water. Hitch and the Doc had so much in common yet they still fought like cats and dogs what in the world did he think of dumb Tully?
After Moffitt's second victory, Hitch and the Sarge decided to head to the latrine one last time before calling it an early night. This left Tully and Moffitt alone, for perhaps the first time. Moffitt almost asked the American to come play but Tully was so focused on his gun avoided his eye. Tully avoided him a lot. Out of all the members of the Rat Patrol, he was the hardest for Moffitt to get a read on. The American probably thought he was stuck up or a know-it-all, he had been accused of it before. Growing up after spending much of his time abroad and learning much under his father's tutelage he had struggled to make friends with his peers. He still struggled to make friends, if recent events were any indication.
The two worked in silence as Tully put away his gun cleaning kit and Moffitt reset his chess set.
"Tully, I've seemed to have upset you." Moffitt didn't turn towards him as he spoke.
His words caught Tully off guard. He sat in stunned silence for a moment before answering, "Nah, ya didn't."
"If you're sure," Moffit said hesitantly.
"You and Hitch good?" Tully changed the subject.
A small smile quirked his lips as he turned to face his teammate, "Yes, we are. I'm very familiar with being the new kid on the block as you Americans say."
"You been to lots of places?" Tully tried to sound casual. The big world around him was fascinating. He had never left his little county before going to war.
Moffitt studied him, "Yes, I've been to many places." Moffitt told him about a few of the more interesting ones, while Tully hung on his every word, visualizing places he'd never dreamed about before. The two took their discussion out of the tent as the others came back and went to bed. They talked late into the cold desert night about various subjects forgetting all about their exhaustion.
"It's been rather disagreeable as of late," Moffit sighed. This had been the first time in quite some time that he had felt at ease with his new unit. He felt he was always trying to please Troy or get along with Hitchcock as he tried to find a place in their little group. He hadn't had much interaction before with the other driver. He had thought Tully standoffish but he had turned out to be an excellent listener who asked pertinent questions and seemed to actually enjoy being around him.
"I don't think it's gonna work," Tully drawled watching the ever-changing sands before them.
"I think you may be right. What do you suggest?" Moffitt asked, waiting for him to voice the inevitable, we don't want you here anymore, that he heard so many times growing up.
Tully smiled around his matchstick, "Switch drivers."