The sound of aircraft engines stirs an involuntary urge in the former German Panzer Hauptmann to give orders to conceal all shining surfaces and hide the vehicles under camouflage netting before diving for cover. Aerial attacks have been among the few things even surpassing the Rats in their destructive power and deadliness. Fighting down the instinct for self-preservation, Dietrich looks up at the sky squinting to make out any shapes of their nearing allies which they hopefully are. Many of the prisoners share the officer's experiences, but not his self-discipline and knowledge that no harm is intended, as they flee into tents or seek shelter even in the latrines. Also several of the Allied soldiers start observing the sky nervously, while a few even duck for cover in tents or rather foolishly the motor pool, as Jack Moffit assesses.
All officers know about their expected aerial support and thus do not react with worry, Major Bracken even smiles, as he mutters: "Ol' Willy sends his lads." "You see anything?", Troy mutters to Dietrich. After the vulture sighting he trusts in the German's ability to spot something without the assistance of binoculars long before himself. The German Captain gives some non-committal murmurs as an answer, before articulating more clearly, as he points with his left hand: "Something's coming from north-north-west." Now also Troy and Moffit squint trying to make out whatever Dietrich might have spotted in the indicated direction. "No wonder you caught my lads so often", Brown mutters, not even trying to see something at this distance. Alarmed by the noise, a whining and yelping Fritz comes running in his master's direction pressing against the man's leg in obvious terror. "What's wrong with him?", Troy asks worriedly. "He's once been injured, when an aerial squadron attacked my column and the truck he rode on got hit", Dietrich explains with a calm tone, as he bends down to speak with Fritz in a reassuring and calm voice petting the frightened dog with his left hand. "Ruhig, Fritz. Es geschieht dir nichts." Fritz stops his whining, but not seeking the contact to the man he trusts to protect him. Moffit observes the scene with detached disapproval to waste one's worries on a dog. Dietrich is just as bad as Troy and Hitch in this regard in his eyes.
Once the dog has at least stopped its noisy cry of terror, Dietrich leaves him be and continues observing the sky. The small objects he has mainly made out from sunlight reflecting off glass or metal surfaces start to gain shape, as Troy mutters: "Now I see something. Still pretty small though." "But they are approaching fast", the German counters. "We should prepare for their landing and also for the option that they might not be our allies." "Always better to be safe than sorry", Moffit comments dryly. "I like your way of thinking, Dietrich. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst", Brown comments with a smile. "Si vis pacem, para bellum", Moffit cites the Latin adaptation. "If you want peace, prepare for war." The German gives a dark smile: "You know that the Deutsche Waffen und Munitionsfabriken, a German weapon and ammunition fabrication company, even named their ammunition after that proverb. My Luger had Parabellum cartridges. But I learned my lesson to always prepare for the worst from a far better teacher." "You're welcome", Troy announces proudly. "No need to thank me."
Dietrich actually glares at him, before something catches his eye and he frowns, as he mutters: "What is that moving up from the ground?" Indeed myriads of small fast flying objects form a larger form that rises into the sky in the line of flight of the sinking airplanes. The squad leader reacts quickly and raises his plane up again, while sidling the potentially deadly distraction, the others follow only seconds later and thus successfully avoid any crashes. Once assured that the planes are in no immediate danger from the ascending swarm any more, Dietrich approaches Boggs to coordinate the dual strategy of preparing defensive measures in form of an armed soldier with a bazooka and several Jeep patrols around the camp ready and at attention. Agreeing on Tully Pettigrew as the bazooka marksman takes them no more than ten seconds, informing the quiet Private and having him retrieve his appropriate armament another minute.
During this time, the planes have flown a quarter circle and are now approaching the camp from the west rather than the north. "The best place for landing is in the east", Boggs comments. "If they want to land they will have to circle us." "Hey, O'Malley. You and the American radio officer try to contact them and inform them of the landing option", Brown bellows in the direction of the Irish-Australian who has still remained out of curiosity after lowering the coffin fully into the tomb. The Australian looks briefly baffled, then salutes. "I'll take care of it right away, Capt'n. Ta-Ta", the man shouts, before dashing off.
Dietrich has returned to observing the planes closely which has him almost tripping over Fritz, as the dog always tries to press against one of his legs. "Fritz! Hör auf, zwischen meinen Füßen durch zu laufen! Platz und gib Ruhe!", the irritated officer scolds and commands the dog in German. With dropped ears, Fritz obeys the command to lie down and stay quiet, but focuses his saddest puppy eye stare on the German Captain who does not even look down from the sky to notice it. Without Hitch to pay him more attention, no saviour arises to pet and comfort the poor creature.
As the planes near, their shapes become more clearly visible. Among six more heavily built fighter bombers fly three differently shaped airplanes built for carrying rather than aerial fights. One such shape looking different from the rest is rather distinctive and the German Captain feels the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. "Fieseler Storch. That's a German aircraft", Dietrich shouts and Tully readies his bazooka. "Hold your fire, Private, until we know whether they are friend or foe. It's not that unusual to utilize captured enemy vehicles." Boggs nods approvingly at the German's command and observes with some bafflement that Pettigrew obeys in a manner that reminds of Troy's handling of the unruly rogue who has never in Boggs' experience treated any of his officers or himself with any sort of respect, muttering: "Aye, Cap." Whatever Dietrich has done to gain his compliance and respect, it appears almost miraculous to the American Captain.
The formation of planes turns slightly to round the camp. Even with defensive measures in place and no shot fired yet, the camp's commanding officers watch them warily, as the lead plane, the Stork, moves lower to the ground, before pulling up again. "Don't fire, Pettigrew!", Dietrich orders sternly, as he sees the Private's whole body tense from the corner of his eyes. "Don't like that, Cap", the Kentucky soldier mutters warily. "I've understood perfectly well that you prefer vehicles which respond more quickly to steering ", the German comments dryly. "You may keep driving your Jeep in spite of your alcohol affinity. And don't shoot that plane down without an order!" Tully gives a non-committal murmur as a response, never moving his eyes away from the planes or taking his finger off the trigger. Troy joins them now that he has accompanied the still injured and weakened Jack Moffit back to the safety of the camp in spite of the Brit's insistence that he is fine and does not require a babysitter. In the vicinity of the camp's motor pool and a few dozen soldiers Sam Troy considers him much safer than outside the camp where the officers still observe and assess the situation. Lieutenant Johnson has in a similar way taken care of Major Bracken, leading the man back to sickbay, although he protests lightly that he'd like to meet Willy's boys.
Only after the planes have finally landed without firing a single shot, do the three Captains exchange glances. "I called them, so I'm responsible for checking them out", Hans Dietrich announces with determination. "Please do so. I trust you to handle the situation appropriately", Boggs agrees, wondering why the German nonetheless eyes him with wariness and suspicion at the statement. "But take some of the lads along, Dietrich", Brown advises. "You may consider me mad, but hopefully not that stupid", the youngest of the three growls in reply, before turning on his heel and giving a hand signal to Tully, Troy and a few more armed soldiers who stand nearby to follow him. Fritz whines briefly, but is silenced by the stern command: "Still, Fritz! Platz und bleib!" Curling up on the ground to stay as ordered, the little dog looks absolutely miserable as he stares after the German officer with a desperate puppy eyes gaze.
Dietrich takes off with a brisk walk stalking toward the landed aircrafts without looking back whether the soldiers follow his unspoken command, as a shout stops Troy in his tracks. "Sergeant Troy!", Captain Boggs calls the American, before he can run off after the German Captain. With a serious expression and knitted brows the American officer orders: "Keep a close eye on Captain Dietrich!" Troy bristles with indignation and snaps back, before thinking properly: "Dietrich won't betray us!" "That's not what I'm worried about", the American Captain sighs in slight exasperation. After a year of experience with the unruly Sergeant, he knows better than to send him off without feeding him some information, lest Troy pull some even more insane stunts than usual. "Since the man arrived at my camp, he's spent more time in sickbay than even some of the medical personnel and been risking his neck time and again in the meanwhile. I don't want to bury him, now that I know why you've started to like him in the first place, Sergeant. If this is a better way to formulate this order, so that it is to your liking, Sergeant Troy: Watch Captain Dietrich's back and keep him alive!"
Now, Troy looks a lot more appeased, but actually worried. "Browny told me the same earlier. I'd have done that anyways, Capt'n." Then he looks up and observes the tall German approaching the landed airplanes by now accompanied by about a dozen armed soldiers with their guns ready including Tully with his bazooka. "I'd better catch up with him to follow your orders, before he does something reckless again." Boggs gives a brief salute that is unsurprisingly not returned, as Troy dashes off behind his charge. Inwardly, he has to smile at the irony of fate to have Troy worry about what is usually his own concern when sending the unconventional Sergeant on a mission. "That's the price we pay for little human things like sympathy, compassion or friendship, Boggs", the Australian Captain comments unbidden with a cryptic smile of his own. "Your Jerry will still give you quite a few headaches... but maybe not as many as Sammy though."
With his right arm impaired, the German Captain settles for having his left hand resting on his handgun's handle, while the soldiers he has gathered as backup provide his main fire power. Warily, he approaches the planes, some of which are still stopping their propellers and keep their cockpits closed, while the lead aircraft, the Fieseler Storch, is already well settled. A tall man opens its door and climbs down with slightly less agility than one would expect from a young professional pilot. When looking at the man more closely, several grey strands in his dark hair become obvious underneath his cap. His blue jacket clearly identifies him as a British officer of the RAF, while his insignia marks him as higher ranking than a Captain. At the sight of the conglomerate of American, British and Australian soldiers with raised guns, one even carrying a bazooka, who all surround a tall young officer in an American uniform with an Australian hat and boots holding one arm tied in a sling, the Brit cocks his left eyebrow and wears an ironic expression. "You need not have prepared such a warm welcome, my dear fellow", he speaks with a raspy voice laced with irony and an obviously British accent, before giving a dark chuckle.
"Lower your weapons!", Dietrich commands sternly after having reassured himself that the man is unarmed and wearing appropriate attire for an Allied soldier as well as speaks in a hard to imitate British manner including their dry humor. The different soldiers obey without much reluctance at the sight of the elderly officer. With a slight bow toward the pilot since saluting is out of the question, the German introduces himself: "Captain Hans Dietrich of the LRDP. Who do we have the honor with, Sir?" At the declaration of his name, the British officer gives the leader of his welcome committee a once-over, before answering with his own introduction: "Sir Percival George-Irving, Air Commodore of his Majesty's Royal Air Force." One of the Brits inhales sharply, while two Australians start muttering and pointing almost instantly, until Dietrich's reprimanding glare stops them. As the British officer gives a proper salute, the German feels obliged to return it with his left hand. The Air Commodore seems to be used to such reactions, as he eyes the soldiers with a magnanimous expression, before his attention shifts back to their Captain who still wrecks his brain trying to remember why the name sounds so familiar. Then, he realizes what the RAF pilot is famous for, being an ace of the last war and still flying in this one in spite of his age and rank getting closer to earning this honorary title again.
The Air Commodore has observed the German's reaction closely enough to see when his realization settles in, as the man's body still tenses involuntarily and his eyes widen ever so slightly. Not an unexpected way to react for a German officer who has been fighting against them until recently according to his briefing and his appearance, if the bruises on his face, the arm in a sling and the man's skinny, sinewy physique are anything to go by. The wary frown on his face also tells George-Irving a tale of not trusting a former enemy officer easily. "I see that my reputation precedes me", the Brit speaks with dry humor. "We should not dally though, as we have a load you require quite dearly, Captain." This draws Dietrich finally out of his reverie, as he sends four soldiers toward the plane to start unloading and another four each to the other carrier planes with a few clear and precise commands. The British officer adds a few explanations how to get on and off without harming the aircraft.
Turning back to the British Air Commodore, Hans Dietrich finally asks with actual curiosity: "What was that swarm rising from the ground that you avoided skillfully, Air Commodore?" "Swallows, my dear fellow. Brave little aerial masters of admirable skill. They even eat during flights", the Brit speaks of the birds with admiration and sympathy. "Our engines must have stirred them. Fortunately, none has come to harm." Dietrich is not absolutely sure, if none only includes his pilots or also the birds in the Brit's eyes and mutters a non-commital: "Indeed. Fortunately."
Troy joins them slightly out of breath after jogging around the camp toward the landing site. While Dietrich merely spares him a surprised glance wondering what took the Sergeant so long, the Brit looks at the attire combining the American uniform and the Australian hat similar to the Captain with curiosity. "You are all a very ... interesting bunch of soldiers. Yankees with Brits and Aussies, some of you even combine the style of two armies. Almost like a circus", the British officer comments with dry amusement that only increases, as the German Captain winces when the recently arrived American Sergeant slaps him on his good shoulder and starts laughing out loud. "Even outsiders think you're the ringmaster of North Africa's biggest circus now, Captain?", he manages to speak out between spikes of laughter, while the younger officer glares at him, wounded pride openly written on his face, as he snaps with clear annoyance, but no malice or actual aggression: "Troy!" The Brit looks briefly baffled at the familiarity between those two men who both behave as if they have months of experience of dealing with each other rather than a few days. "I didn't mean to offend you, Captain. I was just astounded, as I have rarely seen such a diverse mixture of troops off the front lines and never under the command of a German officer who has switched sides", George-Irving tries to appease the proud young man who eyes him with wariness. With a dry tone he adds: "Troy. The name reminds me that I have to tell my group Captain Troy to have the planes checked and help you guys along." "David's with you?", the American Sergeant surprises them with his impolite interruption ignoring any military code of conduct. Both Captain and Air Commodore give him a brief reprimanding glare for the impertinence, before the Brit answers: "I wouldn't have thought you relations at first glance, but I recall that Captain David Troy's a Yankee as well. There is some resemblance, when I look more closely." Dietrich is too surprised to even consider participating in the conversation for the moment. How Troy manages to still take him by surprise and leave him suspended in the limbo of total bafflement in spite of being on the same side and not even directing this against the German, remains a mystery to him. Sam Troy smiles widely at the Commodore's words before the memories of his second to last parting from his brother catches up with him and his face falls. "I'll see him later maybe. Sorry for the interruption, Commodore, Captain." Sir George-Irving looks slightly surprised, but senses that something is off, while he has the good manners not to ask about it, but concludes the interaction with: "Do so, Sergeant Troy." Then he turns his attention back to the German. "I have orders to load some of your captured weapons and ammunition. Send some men to take care of that, so that we can leave as quickly as possible, Captain. We still need the morning winds for taking off, as we would otherwise have to stay until tomorrow and couldn't provide you with further supplies." Dietrich nods in affirmation and shouts a command to Troy, Corporal Gottschlich and a the only other remaining soldier with a British uniform to return to camp and take care of the task with further assistance. Sam Troy scowls, but does not protest as long as Tully remains to keep an eye on the German who is too cautious to send all his men off. The British officer meanwhile speaks with his Group Captain to arrange refueling with their own carried supplies, before returning to the German Captain who eyes his repainted plane with some curiosity. The obligatory Nazi Swastika at the side has been painted over with a Union Jack and the tail marked with the British airships' colours.
"One of the best planes ever built, the Stork", George-Irving muses as if to himself seeing the younger officer tense nonetheless. Whatever has happened to him, has not left the younger man without a mark, not only physically. "I also bear a message and a package for General Atkins and am to ask you to accompany me to him", the British Air Commodore addresses the lean German who tries to hide his wary gaze, as he replies in a carefully controlled manner: "Of course, Sir. Follow me please." Then he turns to the remaining soldier: "Private Pettigrew. Join the men in unloading the planes, so that we do not keep them from their take off for too long!" Tullys affirms the command immediately and turns to the second plane to help unloading, while his Captain turns toward the camp after nodding to the British ace.
The British officer eyes the German walking next to him with undisguised curiosity, before he speaks his mind several steps out of earshot from the unloading soldiers: "I have to admit that I am surprised that the LRDP has put a defected German officer in command of a camp of this size and diversity. I'm even more surprised that the soldiers here indeed treat you with the respect I would expect for an established officer, but not a former enemy commander. You have defected only a week ago according to the file I have read on you, Captain." Dietrich is clenching his jaws in an attempt to hold his tongue and keep himself from speaking back against the higher ranking officer too rashly. Where the assessment is supposed to lead is not clear to the German, but he fights hard to keep his temper under control and his wounded pride from showing on his face too clearly. When he receives no answer, the Brit continues with his musings: "It also strikes me as odd, why the Americans put a tank commander with a scouting unit. A fascinating choice." "What is the purpose of this assessment, Sir?" Dietrich grinds out barely keeping his voice from sounding too unnerved. "Currently, testing your breaking point, as it seems, Captain", the wizened Brit speaks with unconcealed amusement. "You're a proud man which is obvious. Be careful to show such a weakness too openly, as it can be used against you!", Sir George-Irving continues with the tone of the wise and gentle old mentor advising a young protege. Although irritated by the first statement, the tone of the second lets the German Captain stop and reconsider. With a puzzled expression he asks: "Why do you wish to give me advice, Commodore?" The older officer looks at the younger from head to toe. "Because you obviously changed sides for a good reason, or you would not be actively working for us in a state in which any sane medic should never have let you out of a sickbay. Yet here you are, bruised but with the proud stance even a young lion could envy." As the German furrows his brows, the old ace adds: "I was once a proud young man like you. An ace of the great war who thought nothing could stop him. Then, the time between wars with all the harsh reality connected to it far from the glory and delusion of a youthful hero came and now after it another war with all the same mistakes happening again. Flying has kept me sane in all this time. I'm not so young anymore to fly into open combat too often, but for taking care of special assignments such as this I'm glad to get out of the boring office they want to lock me in." The Brit recounts with dry humor and smiles in amusement at the younger officer's baffled expression, as the man obviously wonders why he hears this tale. "Pride has been almost my downfall, as I showed it too openly and it made me vulnerable to being manipulated by others around me and would almost have cost me what I hold most dearly, the freedom of flying. Thus my warning, Captain." Dietrich is more puzzled than before, what the British officer wants from him and why he is sharing this story as if he were under the man's tutelage.
Finally, they have reached General Atkins' command tent and Dietrich enters along with Air Commodore George-Irving after greeting the soldiers on guard duty. Major Turner and the general are brooding over a detailed map of the area, as the German introduces the Brit: "General, Major. Air Commodore George-Irving has an urgent missive." Although not able to give a proper salute, the young officer stands at attention with a straight back and sharp gaze. "Thank you, Captain Dietrich", Atkins states calmly and eyes the British officer with curiosity. "It is not often, I have a famous ace visiting my camp, Commodore. My Captain must've left quite the impression." The Air Commodore smiles wryly. "He has. Also my old chap Willy Harrington has a friend in camp he wants taken care of, Major Harold Bracken. He sent me this letter along for you. The other one and the package is from some of your high ranking fellows. It was given to me in the last minute before the start and I was told that it has high priority and to do with your Captain here." Both letters and a brown package change owner. Ignoring the men around him, the General opens and reads the letter from his colleagues with eagerness burning in his eyes. After skimming the content, he rereads the missive, before opening the package. Dietrich meanwhile schools his expression into neutrality, as he cautiously and warily observes the American officer without being too obvious about it in the way of a shy but curious cat.
Finally, General Atkins looks up and addresses the younger German directly: "I see that you are half-way to deserting us for the Aussies, Captain." Dietrich bristles and defends himself: "Captain Brown gave me the hat with the explicit insistence to wear it during the funerary service as a show of respect to his soldiers and the dead man." Atkins raises his hand to stop him. "I am well aware of that. Nonetheless there is a persistent complication with your affiliation which I hope will be resolved now. Hand me your dog tag, Captain!" Dietrich furrows his eyebrows. "Why, Sir?" General Atkins wears a sly smile, as he replies: "It seems serving with the Rat Patrol is already rubbing off on you as well and not just the other way around. I would have expected a German officer to be better trained than questioning the order of a superior officer." The German Captain has the decency to blush slightly at the reprimand, as he reaches for the chain around his neck holding the oval metal disc and carefully maneuvers it over his head using only his left hand. The object has lost its sense and meaning to him completely with the events of his death sentence and defection. Once valued to inform his family about his fate, this same family would now neither care nor be informed about his death by either side. So the Erkennungsmarke has lost its purpose totally with the exception of telling his blood type in case of a medical emergency.
The American General scowls at the barely intelligible information written there. Several abbreviated syllables and a number underneath, mirrored along the centre line are all he can make out, but no name or other readable information. "What is the meaning of this?", he asks curiously. "It names my military station in Weimar for training artillery as my original recruiting unit, Sir. The number is my identification number within the Wehrmacht connected to this unit", Dietrich replies calmly. "How do you learn the names of your dead soldiers?", comes the question. "Through the unit's Kompanie books for tracking the active soldiers by number. It takes a little research to obtain that information", the German Captain answers unperturbed. "I heard you read the names of German soldiers killed in the last days at the memorial", Atkins remarks sharply, taking the young officer slightly by surprise who moves to a defensive stance automatically. "Captain Brown has explicitly invited me to do this!", Dietrich provides his justification a tad sharply. "I heard that you were the one to suggest honoring the British and American soldiers in the first place", Atkins counters. "That is correct, Sir", the German tries to keep his tone neutral, although he feels as if he is accused of a crime again which he understands even less than the last time.
Suddenly, Atkins' mood changes to a calm and neutral one, as he says: "You may keep this as a memorial of your past, Captain." Dietrich is momentarily stunned by the strange behaviour, but then takes the chain with the metal disc back and places it over his head again. Without waiting, the American General has retrieved two small booklets which look like identification documents, additional printed papers and a metal chain with two rectangular metal discs from the package. "I require you to wear these at all times, unless you are on a special commando mission and explicitly ordered to go without identification." General Atkins hands the chain to the German Captain, while reading through the booklets and papers checking details. Hans Dietrich similarly checks details written on the American dog tags, name, serial number and blood type are expected. The added abbreviation for the typhus vaccine which he has received from the red cross as a precaution during the crisis in the village he has once put under quarantine is not surprising either, as it has been in the medical records included in his SS file. Jakob has even thought of declaring him a Lutheran Protestant. But another set of information takes him by surprise, an address in New York city for contacting his next of kin. Without any relatives in the United States he is even aware of, he only hopes that this is not Marlene Dietrich's address after someone has taken the camp rumours too seriously. He definitely would not put it beyond Atkins to pull such a joke over him for the purpose of deception. The man is almost as cunning as Rommel, but several times as devious. Only at the second take does Hans realize that Jakob's name written above the address means that his friend has declared himself his next of kin and provided his family's home address.
"Is everything in order, Captain?", Major Turner asks with a furrowed brow, as he sees Dietrich's confused expression. "All is well, Major. I am simply surprised to find Lieutenant Silberblatt listed as the person to inform about my fate, but it is indeed most reasonable to have him listed as my next of kin." The American Major looks briefly surprised, before he speaks in a consoling tone: "Informing your own family would be impossible given your political regime." "Informing my actual family would be impossible, as they have already declared me worse than dead, a disgrace for the family and the name of my ancestors and shame for their reputation in the Wehrmacht", the young German counters darkly. "The trouble with military families", Sir George-Irving muses with a sympathetic look. "I wouldn't wish to imagine how my family would have reacted, had I defected which of course I never have even considered."
"If your tags are in order, I would ask you that you start wearing them immediately", Atkins interrupts them and Dietrich similarly to before pulls the chain over his head one-handed. "We need an ink pad", General Atkins tells Major Turner who sends a soldier to retrieve one. Then, Atkins places a document before him on with a large eagle logo and the letters "United States of America War Department" printed on a pigskin textured brown paper. As the German picks up the folder paper the inside reveals a beige paper with detailed printed information of his name, grade, arm of service and serial number which have already been filled in and repeated in type. In his head, Dietrich repeats the number several times to memorize it.
General Atkins indicates where he wants the Captain's signature, before he provides his own countersign as the issuing general representing the army. Dietrich looks fairly surprised that they have indeed managed to get a photo of him without a cap and too much of the Wehrmacht uniform visible to identify it as German as opposed to American. Whoever has worked on this knows his job well. Date of birth, hair and eye color are easily understandable for him, but the numbers for height and weight in feet and pounds cause him a headache. Why can't these narrow-minded Anglosaxons simply use the metric system the whole rest of the world has managed to agree on?
The General eyes the lean German critically seeing his furrowed brows. "Is something not in order, Captain?" Dietrich shakes his head. "I could not tell, as I am not that familiar with feet, inches and pounds currently, Sir." The American and British officers look utterly bemused at the statement. "You will get used to it, lad", George-Irving smiles reassuringly and Dietrich wonders not for the first time why the man treats him in such a friendly way. General Atkins however adds a reprimand: "You should however put on some weight, as yours is the minimum to keep you in active service, Captain!" "Don't blame me for your commandos blowing up my supply convoys!", Dietrich snarls in an automatic defensive move, before he realizes who he has just snapped at. "Forgive me my tone, Sir!" Atkins almost smiles. "I see why the German army has charged you with routine insubordination in spite of being a good officer. A loose tongue, a short temper, a conscience and a sense of honor and justice are a deadly combination in Germany nowadays." Dietrich just grits his teeth clenching his jaws tightly shut to not utter another insolent counter that the General might find less amusing. If he is totally honest with himself, Atkins is of course right which does not make it any less painful for his pride.
The soldier Major Turner has sent off for the ink pad returns with the item and places it on the table before returning to his post. "Finger prints of your right hand need to be registered in the army ID, Captain", Turner explains and Dietrich merely nods in understanding and quiet acceptance. Not agreeing would not help him anyways. The only problem is that his right hand is held up by the sling. "I need to ask you to help me with the sling, Major", the German officer declares with as much dignity as he can muster while asking for help. Taking a seat so that the handling of the sling becomes easier, Dietrich closes his eyes and focuses solely on breathing and keeping his pain under control, but cannot help a hiss of pain, as Turner moves his arm out of the sling and directs his hand gently toward the table. The proud German keeps his jaw tightly shut, as the American officer takes his fingerprints. By the time they have finished with his prints and moved his elbow back into the sling replacing it around his neck, Dietrich's whole body is shivering slightly from the tension and a sheen of sweat has formed on his forehead. A hand on his shoulder startles him out of his reverie. "Easy, lad. It's over", the British ace speaks in a friendly grandfather tone without taking his gaze or hand off the younger man, until he is assured that the lean officer has recovered from the experience.
"Your paybook would be next", General Atkins addresses the young officer. "But I am not sure if I should keep you on duty at all or send you back to sickbay." "If I was not personally acquainted with the Bedouins we have to negotiate with, I would never have left the sickbay, Sir", Dietrich grinds out between clenched teeth. "But the survival and wellbeing of many men in this camp depends on the outcome of these negotiations and I will not shy back from my duty and obligation to these men, be they American, British, Australian, German or Italian!" The determination has given his voice new strength, as his gaze bores into the General. "Stay on duty, Captain, but do not overexert yourself! That is an official order", Atkins finally concedes and eyes the younger officer from head to toe again. "Captain Brown has told me that he could offer to lend us a professional safecracker to open the SS safe. Retrieving your Wehrmacht documents in addition to their documents would hold the value of having a clear documentation of the income Germany owes you and we will try to obtain as compensation." Dietrich is too perplexed by the statement to do anything but stare at the General for a few seconds. "I had not expected to be paid without citizenship and surely not for the time I served fighting against you", the German manages to get out. "I have no use for a dead hero, Captain, or somebody with nothing to lose. I need somebody alive to lead my soldiers on missions in ways few others could and I need you to be able to afford your own clothes and food, equipment and housing, even if you have lost all your possessions in your home. So we will leave that open for now, yet you carry it with you like the ID." Still astounded at the way things are developing, Dietrich takes the document in an automatic dazed motion.
"Your medical file will be for our medical personnel to fill according to your SS and Wehrmacht file which the Swiss and your Doctor Sommer can help translate. This leaves only one last thing." Atkins puts the sheet of paper to the side and folds open another folded document. "Can you drive a halftrack, Captain?" For a moment the German looks briefly perplexed, but recovers fast to give a curt nod. "Yes, Sir." "A Car?" Again Dietrich affirms, as he does for a motorcycle and light to heavy tanks and light trucks, but lacks experience with tractors or heavy trucks and trailers. For each vehicle type he has affirmed, Atkins has signed a line in the Motor vehicle operator's permit. "You never tested me", the German points out astounded. "Your word is enough to trust your qualification even if this hurts your German diligence, Captain. I suppose I don't have to tell you to keep good care of these documents and have them with you at all times." "No, General Atkins", the younger man answers firmly. "Excellent. Then you are dismissed. But before you leave, welcome to the U.S. army officially and legally, Captain. I'd shake your hand, if I wouldn't fear that I'd have to send you to sickbay afterwards." "I can still use my left hand, Sir", the German points out with only a tinge of irony. Still he is surprised that Atkins actually takes him up on the remark and shakes his left hand, before leading him to the tent's exit.
As Hans Dietirch steps out of the General's tent, he only manages a few steps, before a commotion immediately draws his attention. Two Troys are involved in a fist fight, or rather Sam Troy is knocking his brother over the head and to the ground, while David Troy refrains from fighting back and mainly keeps his hands up to protect his head. "Troy, stop this immediately!", the German Captain bellows with a command tone he has usually reserved for dire battles while running over to the opening where the fight takes place. Both brothers stop short to look at the source of their distraction who approaches them with narrowed eyes and his own body tensed as if expecting a fight. "When I advised you that you should sort things out with your brother, this was certainly not what I had in mind, Sergeant!", Dietrich growls sternly. "You don't know what's happened...", Troy snaps back angrily, but is interrupted by the equally livid German Captain: "I don't care what has happened to make you attack a senior officer, but we both are grown men, even if you don't always behave like it, Sergeant, and as your commanding officer I cannot stand by and let you beat up an allied Captain, even if he is your brother!"
Dietrich has stepped close enough to stand over David in a protective stance, as the baffled RAF officer surveys his unexpected saviour from the ground. "He is actually in the right to beat me up, Captain Boggs", David Troy speaks with a dejected voice that surprises Dietrich more than the man's false assumption about his identity. "You both owe me an explanation, gentlemen!", the German snarls with determination, before he adds with clear sarcasm mixed into his tone: "And to set things straight, my name is Hans Dietrich, not James Boggs." Taking a step to the side, he glares at Sam Troy daring him to question or challenge his wish for clarification, then holds out his left hand and helps his brother David to his feet. The younger Troy shares with his older brother the tendency to take the German completely by surprise and tend towards physical expressions of his gratitude and sentimentality, as he pats the taller officer jovially on the left shoulder with a wide grin: "Thanks, mate!" Dietrich glares at him with the annoyance typically reserved for his brother, before pronouncing pointedly: "I am not your mate, Captain Troy." Speaking the rank and name like insults in themselves, Sam has to grin, as he sees the surprised David at the receiving end of Dietrich's wrath. The lean German glares with increasing annoyance, as David tries to weasel his way out with a goofy smile and babbling about his saviour's selflessness which ends in Dietrich interrupting him unnerved: " That's quite enough. You're even worse than your brother!"
"You'd better not anger Dietrich any further, Davey, or he'll tear your head off independent of you two serving on the same side now", Sam comments with dark amusement in spite of the anger still audible underneath. Only now does the other Captain's name and its implication truly register with David Troy who stares at the German officer with open astonishment. "Your name is Dietrich?" "The tendency for asking moronic questions because you did not pay attention the first time around obviously runs in the family", Dietrich replies dryly, earning glares from both Troy brothers which he pointedly ignores. "You will both come with me, gentlemen! And you'd better have a good explanation for this spectacle unworthy of a Sergeant and a Captain!" "We'd better cooperate, Davey, or he might consider throwing us to a pack of lions or hyenas or whatever he comes up with", Sam explains in a stage whisper intended to anger Dietrich as much as baffle David. "If no pack of blood-thirsty creatures miraculously appears out of thin air, I might just settle for throwing you to Major von Stolberg and providing you with Moffit as an interpreter", the German states dryly. "Dietrich. That's inhuman. That violates the Geneva convention", Sam Troy protests to which Dietrich gives a truly diabolical smile. "You know, Sergeant, the Geneva convention won't protect you, as you are not my prisoner of war, since we serve on the same side now thanks to your ingenious intervention." "He's THE Dietrich?!", David gets out completely baffled. "I am fairly assured the article is not supposed to be used in this way in the English language. What is 'THE Dietrich' supposed to mean? And if both of you could refrain from violating my name, I would be much obliged. You two barbarians climbed out of the same cave after all." The German Captain does not even try to hide his annoyance, letting them feel the full force of sarcasm. David gapes, while Sam again whispers: "Don't anger him any further, Davey!" "I didn't even say anything!", the younger Troy protests. "First you annoy him, then you blame me. It's always the same with you." "Why don't you shut up, both of you?!", the German barks unnerved, pinching his nose as he feels a headache coming. The only thing worse than Sam Troy for his mental stability is the combination of the Sergeant with his brother. Sam knows better than to continue after this phrase and tone. Similarly, David has enough sense of self-preservation to not anger the irate German officer any further.
When they arrive at Dietrich's tent, the German briefly considers going inside, then thinks better of it, as he remembers the mess Jakob usually leaves on his bed. "Could we speak inside?", David Troy asks meekly. "What is so secret that you want to go inside?", Dietrich asks sharply, but with a more moderate tone than before. "Please, Captain. Let us speak inside." To hear the word please in such a pleading tone from Say Troy is enough to convince the German officer immediately that this is indeed serious and he leads them into the tent. "Forgive my ... roommate's lack of tidiness", he grinds out, but neither of the two Americans is really paying attention to the interior. "I heeded your word, Dietrich", Sam explains and the German's eye twitches briefly at the mispronunciation of his name. "Wanted to speak with Davey, tell him how sorry I am that I've been such an idiot, only to learn that I've indeed been an idiot in a different way." By now the Sergeant sounds like an angered bull about to charge. "In what way?", Dietrich asks curiously in spite of knowing deep down that he will regret this question and to ever have demanded this explanation. He should just have accepted Atkins' offer to send him directly to sickbay.
"Well", David Troy picks up the story now. "Have you heard from Sam what this is all about?" Dietrich raises his eyes heavenward questioning whatever divine entity what possible crime he could have committed to be punished with a second Troy, as if one had not been enough. "I am familiar with his background, if it is his wife's death you are referring to", the German answers in a cooler tone than he actually would have expected to muster. "Okay. Well, umh, Sam accused me of killing his wife and child, but it was not his child. Anne and I have been..." "Sleeping with each other behind my back. Cheating on me with my own brother!", Sam Troy shouts lividly and raises his fist again in David's direction. "If you intend to inform the whole camp, you should still make the effort to be a little bit louder, Sergeant", the German effectively puts an end to the shouting through his sarcastic remark. "You damn Jerry bastard!" "Troy. I'm trying to help you here. You want to discuss this with your brother? Feel free to do so. You want to beat him up? Do it off duty, when I am nowhere near and obliged to interfere. But in your own best interest, do not involve the whole camp by shouting at the top of your lungs!", Dietrich advises in a serious tone after taking a calming breath. Sam Troy stares the German into the eyes for a few seconds before averting his gaze with a shameful look. "Sorry, Dietrich. And I've actually been accusing you the whole time of not seeing friends trying to help you."
The younger German grimaces, but pulls himself together to swallow his own pride. "Now that you both have spoken honestly how you have wronged each other, is there anything else that should be said? Now would be a good moment. I can leave and need not hear this, once I am sure that you will not smash my tent and few remaining belongings to bits", the German states dryly. "Don't leave!", Sam speaks quickly and David appears almost relieved at the words. "I wouldn't trust us to actually behave and settle this civilly. You have really helped until now, Captain... I mean Dietrich." "Stay with Captain, Troy. I am perfectly well aware that you currently wouldn't call your good-for-nothing brother Captain", the German remarks dryly glaring at David to dare contradict him after the confession he has made. "You're probably right. But there is nothing more. It's bad enough as it is", David admits. "Bad enough? You call this bad? This is complete madness. How could you ever do something like this? How could Anne agree?", Sam shouts lividly approaching David aggressively and only stops as the German steps in between him and his brother. "She wanted that child so desperately for both your sakes. She said we should ... do it to test whether the problem was with you or her. That's how it started, but then..." David is at a loss for words and Sam about to jump at him in spite of Dietrich standing in between. "Back off, Sergeant. And you continue speaking!", Dietrich orders sternly, before the Sergeant can start working himself into a fit even more. "Well. It all changed when she got pregnant. All of a sudden the child was the most relevant thing and returning to you, Sam. She considered me neither a good father nor husband." Sam Troy has actual tears in his eyes, torn between anger, anguish, betrayal, hatred, love and loss. The German feels more and more uncomfortable. Curse this family for ever involving him in their affairs and his weak heart and head for not turning his back on them when he still could.
"Sam?", David asks cautiously. ""What, Dave?", Sam growls back. "Can you ever forgive me?", the younger Troy brother asks. "I don't know, Dave", his older brother snarls. "You'd better leave me alone." "Sure, Sam. Take your time", David sighs in relief. After a moment of hesitation, he takes a few steps closer to the German who has stepped between him and his brother despite never having met him before. "Thanks. I owe you one, Captain Dietrich." The taller man scowls darkly. "I did not do this for you." "It's even more miraculous, you'd do it for Sam and that he listens to you", the younger Troy whispers, watching cautiously, if his older brother has heard him, before he practically flees from the tent. "He's right, Captain. I wouldn't have expected that amount of support from you of all people, when I first involved you in this", Sam Troy addresses the remaining officer. "Apparently, I'm not as cold-hearted and ruthless, as you have given me credit for", the German counters sarcastically, unsure how else to best address the American Sergeant who is too proud for accepting compassion and too emotional to live without it. "You might wish to speak with Captain Brown. Speaking with a ... friend ... you trust would be helpful", he manages to get out in spite of struggling for words. Sam Troy narrows his eyes and observes the obviously uncomfortable German who tries to help despite feeling out of his depth.
"What would you do, if you were in my place?", the American asks out of the blue after several uncomfortable moments of awkward silence. "Troy, I'm not married and only have an older sister", comes the uncomfortable reply after a few moments of startled hesitation. "Don't give me that bullshit!", Sam Troy snaps, not caring about rank or propriety. "You're still smart and have a pretty good idea of what losing everything means unlike Browny." Wondering how on earth he has ever gotten involved in this, Dietrich takes off his hat with a weary sigh placing it on the pile of clothes, next to his cap. Shaking his head in a vain attempt to clear his thoughts, the Captain considers what to say to get them both out of this inappropriate and awkward situation. Maybe he is uniquely qualified to understand the loss of all that matters, but he has no idea how to deal with that himself, even less to advise someone else.
After clearing his throat and mind, the German Captain starts speaking hesitantly without looking up to meet the other's eye. "When my sister married a SS officer, my father was furious, even threatened to not consider her his daughter anymore, because a force of armed political fanatics is not proper military. My mother was disappointed that she did not marry a nobleman to return to nobility, as she had always intended for her. She wouldn't listen to my uncles and aunts either. " Troy looks at him intently. "What about you?" The German smiles wryly. "I was a boy not even out of school yet. Besides that I had never been close to my sister. She was the spoiled princess and I the future soldier. We had nothing in common except for our parents. I didn't like her husband for the simple fact that he was an arrogant young upstart Nazi and quite fanatical about his political views, while he had neither a higher education nor any decent upbringing or behaviour, but a cruel and violent streak. All the while I could consider myself lucky that he gracefully overlooked the inappropriate friendship with Jakob, as arresting your fiancee's teenage brother is not the best way to get into her good graces." Dietrich sighs deeply. "Still. If I would get the chance to come to terms with my family, even my sister and brother in law, rather than live with the knowledge that they will hate me for the rest of my life or theirs and cherish my death, I would gladly take it." The German sighs deeply again and leans back. "I suppose that is all the advice I can give you, Sergeant." Troy eyes the younger man with curiosity, while still fighting his own inner turmoil. "Thanks, Captain. I really appreciate your honesty. Probably should catch up with David to do that coming to terms over with." "Try to leave him alive. I have missed the pleasure of having you arrested for almost a month now, but I'd still prefer not to fall back to old habits", the German Captain advises sarcastically. Troy barks a slightly pained laugh, before leaving the tent.
Dietrich breathes a sigh of relief, but tenses immediately, when he hears Moffit's and Troy's muffled voices outside the tent. Why exactly would those damn Rats not leave him alone? Moffit at least has a valid reason for approaching him given their joint mission for the next few hours. A loud barked insult from Troy seems to end their discussion, as only silence remains afterwards. Several seconds later, the Brit's aloof tone has returned, this time to call out to the German in a soft voice given his injured lung. "Captain Dietrich!" Moffit at least applies a slightly better pronunciation of the name, even though his ch still marks him as non-native speaker. "Come in, Sergeant!", the German officer replies wearily. There will be no rest for the wicked during this day it seems. Lying down to sleep, best with some pain killing medication, appears like a fanciful fantasy to look forward to in a distant future.
Jack Moffit enters the tent and takes a curious look around, taking in the strikingly different lifestyles of its inhabitants. The lean German Captain stands slightly forlorn next to the well-made cot that is obviously his. Without the hat hiding his face underneath the rim, his bruises, the cut on his forehead and the haggard look are more obvious. Dietrich clearly looks like he has been through the wringer which Moffit knows he has been in the past two weeks. Still curiosity and a nagging feeling of something Jack does not want to label too clearly as betrayal or jealousy remain and drive him to tap his next best source of information, since Troy has rushed off. "What has just happened?" Dietrich shrugs and immediately winces at the pain this causes his shoulder. "Troy", the German Captain answers dryly without bothering to elaborate. The Sergeant and what he currently puts him through feels a biblical plague in itself for him which needs no further elaboration. "Could you be a bit more specific, Captain?", the British scholar tries not to sound too unnerved. They have obviously taught him too well in dodging unwanted questions. "Actually I can't, Sergeant, because I have given my word and will not break it or another's confidence."
Moffit looks at the German incredulously for a few moments, until accepting defeat in this regard. His nagging feeling however has become worse and he tries to blame it along with his not full recovery from his injuries for his emotional reaction. "Would you care to explain to me, why Troy takes you in his confidence and not me?" Dietrich is actually surprised at the outburst, but reminds himself that the other is just as much affected by his injuries and pain as he himself, when he feels the urge to lash back. "Ask Troy. I cannot tell you what I don't know myself", Dietrich answers in a more moderate tone than the Brit has used and expected in response, hoping that the man's natural intelligence will not evade him completely in this discussion. Moffit frowns, but finally determines that the German Captain is more likely to be honest than Troy to be reasonable. "I'm sorry to have bothered you with this, Captain", he concedes, but finds himself surprised, when the German officer answers in a calm tone with actual worry and concern audible. "You should speak with him given that you are his friend." "I will", Jack answers flatly, realizing reluctantly that Troy is right that the younger man is actually more compassionate than the Brit has ever given him credit for.
"Our strategy for the negotiations is clear", Dietrich elegantly changes the subject by steering them back into more professional waters. "I would say so. I came to help you with your saber and dagger though", Moffit replies and sees the German Captain tense immediately which does not surprise him. The young officer has always been proud and it would be a miracle, if he were not wary of his former enemies turned allies. Being straight and honest himself has been his downfall among the Nazis' brutal regime as much as his asset buying him respect on his new side. "You find everything here, Sergeant", the German officer draws him out of his musings and directs him toward a narrow desk near his cot on which neat piles of properly folded uniform pieces lie orderly. Underneath it lies a satchel and under the cot the long saber and the curved Bedouin dagger, both elegantly crafted and of great artisanal value. The Captain's belt with pouches could obviously not have been put on by himself, as the arm in the sling would definitely put it out of question. "I will have to take off the belt and fix the two sheaths to it, before fixing it around your waist again", Moffit declares professionally and sees Dietrich nod with an almost fatalistic expression. Now he can understand the German's previous discomfort much better.
Although the Captain is as cooperative as can be, they are both glad when the procedure is finished, as neither feels fully comfortable in the other's sole presence. Checking his watch Dietrich mutters: "1100. What do you suppose would be the time to expect our guests, Doctor?" Moffit furrows his brows thinking over the question. "I suppose we should expect them within the next one or two hours, Captain. Do you have any urgent duties to take care of?" The German officer frowns, eyeing him warily. "Why do you ask?" "Because I would like to invite you to tea, if you don't mind. Consider it my version of a peace treaty. Not as effective as threatening to beat you up, I have to admit, but that's simply not my style." Whatever Dietrich has expected, this has not been it. As he recollects his wits, he replies dryly: "Neither is it mine." "Be my guest then, Captain", Moffit puts on his best Cambridge upper middle class tone and demeanor, as he leads the way to the British camp partition to find someone who has brewed up.
Their friendly tea party is interrupted within the first ten minutes before Moffit has even had the chance to get beyond irrelevant small talk. When Troy approaches them with an expression as if he would wish nothing more than to take the whole German army heads on. "Beware, Genghis Khan is coming!", the German Captain mutters under his breath causing Moffit to grin in spite of himself. "I doubt even a great wall would protect us like it happened to China", the British scholar whispers back, realizing for the first time how enjoyable an intelligent and educated conversation partner can be, when dealing with such situations. "I will leave you two to your conversation, gentlemen", Dietrich offers his withdrawal elegantly without loss of face, as he downs his cup of tea wishing it was something stronger. Jack gives the German officer an almost admiring look for the sly move. "You can stay where you are, Captain", Troy barks angrily. "I could use some backup." The German officer and the British scholar look equally perplexed at the statement both wondering in what kind of world Dietrich would serve as Troy's backup against Moffit. The American Sergeant continues unperturbed: "Davey might miss a tooth or two on the long run, but we've been able to talk after all. Well, to be honest I did most of the talking and he finally kept his mouth shut." Dietrich pinches his nose speaking in exasperation: "Sergeant. What am I going to do with you?" "I could offer a few suggestions", Moffit answers dryly. "How many of them guarantee that I never have to worry about him again?", the German Captain asks dryly. "You're a bunch of idiots. I should never have let you forge an alliance!", Troy curses furiously. "I'm serious here." "Did you at least get him to sickbay after beating him up properly?", Dietrich asks wearily with a tinge of sarcasm. "He didn't look that bad, just a black eye, a few loose teeth and some nice bruises. He's had far worse back home. You almost look worse yourself in spite of already having spent days in sickbay." "That is hardly a flattering comparison, neither for your brother nor for me, Troy", the German counters dryly.
"So what is it you want from us except for an absolution neither of us can give you? On the contrary I should order some punitive measures, if I were ever to hear about what happened between you and your brother after I had intervened and sent you on your separate ways." Dietrich tries to transport his unsaid meaning as well as possible and hopes that the Sergeant is not continuing to be unnecessarily difficult and ignorant of subtle messages. Moffit catches the meaning immediately and eyes the German Captain with newfound respect. He is actually a good officer, not unnecessarily cruel or harsh when sympathy is more relevant than upholding strict military discipline ignoring soldiers' individual situations. Jack realizes that this is the reason why his unit has still cheered for him after his death sentence and eyed him with respect on this very day in spite of having been imprisoned for days already because of his deal with the Allies. But Troy appears to be too obtuse to fully register his good fortune, as he snaps at the young German: "I don't care, if you lock me up. It was necessary." Dietrich sighs wearily, resisting the urge to lower himself to the unworthy display of rolling his eyes, as he asks sarcastically: "Do you at least feel better, Sergeant?" Troy seems to consider the question seriously. "Yes. I do. You're pretty wise for being barely older than a boy." Now Dietrich is obviously offended and not trying to hide his wounded pride, as he snaps back with indignation: "I'm not barely older than a boy!" "Sorry, Captain. But you're some ten years younger than I and even younger than my little brother and sister. You actually were a boy, when some of the things discussed happened", Troy chooses a more friendly tone which does nothing to keep the avalanche he has unwittingly set off in check. "That still doesn't give you any right to treat me like that. It's undignified. And we've had this discussion before, Sergeant", the German growls in annoyance. "Hold your horses, Captain. I'm not trying to annoy you, just saying 'thank you' I suppose." Dietrich gives a long suffering sigh. "I believe I have told you before, Sergeant, that your ways of expressing your gratitude are almost as interesting as your ways of asking for help in the first place."
"Would somebody care to explain to me what you are talking about?", Moffit intercedes, before Troy will continue with this nonsense. His annoyance at being left out is clearly audible. Dietrich raises his left arm defensively. "I have given my word not to share this, Sergeant. This will be your own obligation." In Moffit's direction he adds with a considerable amount of sarcasm: "I would recommend you to imbibe some strong alcoholic beverage along with this story, but as your commanding officer I have to remind you that this would of course be inappropriate on duty." Jack briefly gapes at the unexpected comment, while Sam Troy eyes the German Captain with a mixture of annoyance and sympathy. "Are you weaseling your way out of this?", he drawls at the younger man. "I have heard this story once. This lasts me for a while. And I should check on your brother, before someone higher up in the ranks asks for all our heads, because he crashes his plane", Dietrich replies dryly. "Gentlemen", the German intonates as a goodbye and withdraws quickly with a nod, before any of the two think of stopping him. Troy's interception is indeed stopped by Jack Moffit who asks with clear annoyance: "So what is going on that you share with your new friend, but not your old ones?" Hesitating for a moment whether correcting this statement would be worth sacrificing his dignified retreat the German Captain continues on his way to the sickbay not trusting that the American Sergeant would let him leave a second time, if he would turn back now.
David Troy proves to be just as bull-headed as his brother, since Dietrich finds him in sickbay with his commanding officer, Air Commodore George-Irving, looming over him and giving him a dressing down for trying to take off in such a state without having been checked for a concussion. "You're not just risking your own life, but the lives of your whole squad, Group Captain Troy! I would have expected more sense of responsibility from a man of your rank as well as more general propriety to not get into a fist fight in a camp with allied soldiers in the first place. Your behaviour is a disgrace for the Royal Air Force!" Indulging in the brief fantasy that his older brother would receive a similar speech from the older and more imposing officer, the German Captain is quickly returned to reality by nurse O'Donnell who bears a friendly smile, as she asks what he requires. "I'm checking up on Group Captain Troy after the report I received from one of my men", Dietrich replies smoothly. "As all seems in order, I would ask you for another dose of morphine before the negotiations start, Lieutenant. If you find the time to renew the local anaesthesia it would be even better. I assume nurse Hartigan has informed you." Deirdre O'Donnell eyes the lean young officer with a certain degree of worry, as willfully asking for painkillers appears to be a sign of his injuries seriously troubling him.
Both walk toward the officers' ward which has again been occupied by Major Bracken who greets the German Captain in a friendly manner. The nurse continues speaking in the meantime: "Of course, I have the time, Captain Dietrich. Please take a seat and take off the jacket and shirt." She immediately realizes the absurdity of the statement. "I will help you with that of course. Simply undo the buttons." The German officer is too well-bred to give the blond woman a stinging remark, as he undoes the buttons left-handed far enough to expose his shoulder but not actually take off his shirt. After removing the sling over his neck carefully, Deirdre understands what is troubling him, but not why anyone would let the man continue to be on duty. "You should stay in sickbay with an injury like this, Captain", she tries to argue. "Unfortunately that is not an option, Lieutenant O'Donnell. My participation at the negotiations with the Bedouins is a necessity for the safety of the whole camp and the possibility of receiving supplies", Dietrich replies calmly and wearily. "All I ask of you is to get me through this day with as little pain as possible." "Are you again sweet talking my nurses to support your self-destructive actions, Captain?", Doctor Andrews asks with a slight tone of irony. The German officer immediately reacts with indignation: "I would never..." Andrews interrupts the younger officer, before he continues to build up his anger: "I am well aware of that, Captain, and really don't doubt that you're a gentleman. The only thing I can hold against you is that you're causing me as many worries as you've caused your previous medic. I like you and I'd like to keep you around, so please refrain from putting your life on the line on a daily basis." Dietrich frowns at the words, clenching his jaws at the brief surge of pain, as the nurse applies the local anesthetics to his shoulder.
"Ludwig has warned me about you after all." The German Captain looks briefly stunned by the fact that the two doctors are on a first name basis with each other. Doktor Sommer has approached them curiously after sighting his former Hauptmann and looks amused at the American Doctor's reprimand of the young officer. "Ludwig?!", Dietrich intonates with obvious amusement, raising his eyebrows. "Are you fraternizing with the enemy, Doktor Sommer?" "No more than you, Herr Hauptmann", the German medic replies unperturbed with a brief smile. "I am your enemy, Doctor, given that I officially serve the U.S. army now", his former Hauptmann replies dryly, subconsciously reaching for the tags around his neck. "I will never consider you my enemy, Hauptmann Dietrich, as little as you would consider me your enemy", the German doctor counters. "I understand that you are in a precarious position and cannot openly take my actions, as you have a wife and two young sons in Germany", Dietrich states more seriously. "You have always been an honorable and selfless man, Hans. I know you would never endanger my or my family's lives and have tried to protect us all by handing us to the Allies as prisoners", Sommer replies with equal seriousness. The younger officer averts his eyes at the other's words. "You still should try to give Doctor Andrews less of a headache than you have given me", the German medic adds with a sympathetic smile. "I'll try my best", comes the dry reply. "I appreciate your good intentions, Captain", Andrews accepts the concession with a smile of his own.
"Would somebody continue treating my officer?", the British Air Commodore George-Irving insists. Doctor Andrews looks unperturbed. "Of course. Lieutenant Hartigan will continue immediately, once his IV infusion is finished dripping." "You'd better give him priority, Doctor. They need to take off as soon as possible", Dietrich admonishes sternly. "Don't worry we have several days of practice treating two Captains at the same time", Andrews replies, giving a chuckle. "And we need you fit for your negotiations as soon as possible as well." "He probably deserves it more than I anyways", David Troy adds with a slightly dejected tone. "If we'd only treat the people who deserve it we'd have to kick Major von Stolberg out of sickbay immediately", Dietrich counters dryly. Sommer squeezes the Captain's left shoulder lightly to express his unspoken gratitude, remembering the Major's tirades only too well. Deirdre O'Donnell shows a similar gesture, while her superior, Doctor Andrews, laughs with dry humor. "That's what we like you for, Captain Dietrich."
"If you do not manage to get him ready to fly, I can leave Captain Troy with you for one or two days before taking him back with us", Air Commodore George-Irving offers openly. "You must not leave him here. One Troy is a serious menace for my camp. Two of them are an uncontrollable catastrophe", Dietrich protests with dark irony. "My dear young friend", the older British officer speaks in the manner of the wise grandfather directing his defiant grandson. "The challenges we face form our character and show our true strength. I am sure you will deal with this in an extraordinary way given your character as I could witness it." The German Captain is too perplexed to answer right away, especially when the man pats him on the head as if he were a child. The medical personnel looks close to a fit of laughter at the sight. "I will entrust the lads to your competent hands then, my ladies and gentlemen", Sir George-Irving states and bows in the manner of British nobility, before leaving in a swift yet dignified way. Dietrich still wonders what has just happened, as he stares after the man.
"A funny old coot, isn't he, Captain?", Major Bracken, the man he would least have expected to address him like that, says with a tinge of amusement. "Would you explain to me, Major, why he treats me as if I was a boy not a grown man, soldier and even less an officer?" Harold Bracken sounds and looks fairly entertained by the German Captain's shocked reaction, as he starts his explanation: "I have known the Air Commodore only by reputation until now, but he is eccentric even for elderly British standards says the rumour mill. An ace of the last war who dedicated his life to flying, he has decades of experience with risking one's life in more or less heroic ways. I've heard he treats only young soldiers or officers he actually likes in such a way with the rest he is rather cold and distanced." Dietrich frowns at the words, but doubts the Major's sincerity far less than the Air Commodore's sanity. "I can confirm that", David Troy, the source of most of his recent troubles, intercedes. "He really likes you to treat you like one of his lads. I've only ever seen him treat some young upstarting pilots like that. But then I gotta admit I like you too. You really had Sam well reigned in and under control in spite of his mood." "I know no force on earth to have Sam Troy under control", the German Captain retorts dryly. David laughs heartily. "I see why they like you. You'd know my brother better than most and still treat him with fairness and empathy. You know, Captain Dietrich, I've never seen anyone besides Mom handle Sam so well. He really respects you and likes you."
Dietrich looks at him doubtfully, then addresses the nurse who has finished working on his shoulder and helped him back into his shirt and jacket with a tinge of sarcasm: "Did you check him for a concussion, Lieutenant?" Deirdre O'Donnell smiles widely. "We did, of course. Nothing too worrying, surely nothing that causes delusions or hallucinations." "It must be the family disease then", the German concludes dryly which makes David bark another laugh. "I see why Sam wants to keep you around. You're really funny, pretty smart and, if rumour in camp is anything to go by, incredibly brave. I'm really looking forward to staying for a while." "Try to behave better than your brother or rather than you have until now, Captain Troy. You are an officer after all", Dietrich admonishes him sternly and Major Bracken comes to his unexpected aid. "Indeed, Captain Troy. Ending up in fist fights with Yankee soldiers is inappropriate for an officer of his majesty, King George." David Troy holds up his hands in surrender. "I will not cause any trouble." "You should not give a promise you will not be able to keep, Captain!", the German counters sarcastically. "You're a Troy and have an unsolved problem with your brother. You will cause all kinds of havoc in this camp." His only consolation is that he is no longer the main responsible commander of this camp.
David eyes him with actual amusement. "Since you already know us so well, would you care to help me come to terms with my brother? It would save you the trouble of coming after us all the time." "Thank you, Captain Troy. I can perfectly manage to get into trouble without your kind assistance", comes the sarcastic reply. "And I am not your family friend to be drawn into such affairs." David replies with a grin reminding of his brother immediately that causes the wish to throttle the ignorant fool in the German officer: "I'll just declare you that. Could count the people we could call that on one hand and I wouldn't need all the fingers." Dietrich finally loses some of his countenance. "Captain Troy. You don't seem to understand that I am a German officer who has tried to capture or kill your brother for the better part of the last year." David Troy is startled enough to not reply immediately. "That your brother has already tried to ignore this for longer than I care to consider and tries his uttermost to drive me insane with his American sentimentality does not change simple facts", the German Captain continues. "So you'd better start looking for your family friends somewhere else! Did I make myself clear, Captain Troy?" David eyes him curiously, but nods. "Perfectly, Captain Dietrich." The German Captain smiles sarcastically. "That would make you the first Troy to understand that."
As the younger officer turns away to return to his duties, he finds a hand on his shoulder stopping him. "Ich bin eigentlich gekommen, um Sie zu bitten, nach Wolf Bauer zu sehen, Herr Hauptmann. Sie sind der einzige Mensch, der momentan einen Zugang zu ihm hat. Feldwebel Deutsch kämpft immer noch mit der Infektion und schwerem Fieber", Doktor Sommer addresses his former Captain that he would ask him to look after Private Bauer as the only man with a connection to the young man currently, as Sergeant Deutsch is still fighting his infection and high fever. Dietrich is hesitating, as on the one hand the young soldier's story has not left him unaffected, but on the other hand he does not want to foster the young man's notion to follow him into battle only to throw away his life at the earliest possible time. A nagging feeling that he has himself behaved almost like that is better pushed to the back of his mind than dwelt on at the moment. Sommer seems to interpret his hesitation differently, as he continues to argue: "Ich habe verstanden, dass Sie kein Offizier der Wehrmacht mehr sind, aber das ändert nichts daran, dass Sie immer noch ein guter und anständiger Mensch sind, Hans." The German Captain tenses at the use of his first name which the medic only does rarely to drive home an important message. It is less clear to him why Sommer feels it necessary to assure him that not serving in the Wehrmacht any more does not change that he is a good and decent man. "Tatsächlich, Ludwig? Wann bin ich eigentlich zum Schutzpatron der hoffnungslosen Fälle erkoren worden?", Dietrich asks with his usual sarcasm intonating the medic's first name purposefully after the familiarity between the two doctors, when indeed he has been chosen as protector and patron of the hopeless cases.
Then he applies a more moderate and serious tone: "Ich würde Bauer natürlich nicht im Stich lassen, aber ich weiß selbst nicht, was ich tun oder ihm sagen soll." He has to admit that he does not know what to do or tell the young man. "Sie haben seine Geschichte nicht gehört, Doktor, aber er ist verzweifelt, hat nichts zu verlieren und kann überhaupt nicht mit den echten Nazis auskommen. Einerseits würden sie ihn womöglich wirklich im Kriegsgefangenenlager umbringen. Andererseits schmeißt er wohl sein Leben bei der ersten Gelegenheit für irgendeine Heldentat weg, wenn ich ihn überlaufen und mir folgen lasse." The young officer explains that Sommer has not heard the young man's story as told by himself and argues that the soldier is desperate, has nothing left to lose and would likely be killed in a POW camp where the actual Nazis might kill him for his actions. But if Dietrich were to let him switch sides he would likely throw away his life at the first opportunity for some act of heroism. Doktor Sommer eyes the young officer with actual worry and concern, as he answers: "Das versteht wohl niemand besser als Sie, Hans. Aber bitte hören Sie auf, Ihr Leben aufs Spiel zu setzen. Selbst eine Heerschar von Schutzengeln kann Sie nur eine Zeitlang am Leben halten." Dietrich averts his gaze, as his long time medic argues that hardly anyone could understand this as clearly as the young Captain, but pleads with him to not constantly risk his life, as even a whole unit of guardian angels is hard challenged to keep him alive. Nodding without a verbal reply, the German officer steers them back to their original topic of discussion. "Ich werde nach Bauer sehen. Wo ist er?"
While Sommer leads Dietrich to the soldier's cot, they can see Deirdre O'Donnell and Lisa Hartigan whisper and glance in their direction. The stares have lost their animosity and most of their suspicion of the previous times when the two have spoken in German. Instead, these emotions have been replaced by curiosity. Doktor Sommer is likely not up to resisting Lieutenant Hartigan's interrogation techniques for longer than a minute, Dietrich muses, as he follows him through the sickbay and takes in the sight of the dozens of wounded still treated there with concern.
As he steps between the German soldiers' cots, two men of his former unit greet him immediately with a salute and an almost relieved sounding "Hauptmann Dietrich". Struggling briefly with the guilt at having betrayed them and landed them here as the last victims of the Rat Patrol under his command, he greets them back in a calm and professional manner, saluting with his left. Ulrich von Bibra who looks slightly better than the last time Dietrich has seen him greets him almost enthusiastically: "Herr Hauptmann, ist es wahr, dass Sie bei der Begräbnisfeier die Namen unserer Kameraden vorgelesen und ihrer gedacht haben?" Dietrich blinks briefly in surprise to be asked whether it is true that he has read the names of their fallen comrades to honor them at the funeral. Camp rumours still travel faster than anything else. Several other men of von Stolberg's unit pay close attention to his answer. "Ich habe ihre Namen vorgelesen wie auch die der Gefallenen und von der SS Exekutierten aus meiner früheren Kompanie, sowie auch die der Italiener, Australier, Briten und Amerikaner." Dietrich answers calmly that he has read their names along with those of the fallen and executed of his own unit and the Italians, Brits, Australians and Americans.
"Werden Sie uns an die Araber ausliefern, Herr Hauptmann?", one of other soldiers dares to ask the tall young officer who is obviously German in spite of his American uniform. "Ich schwöre Ihnen bei meiner Ehre als deutscher Offizier, dass ich jede erdenkliche andere Lösung suchen werde, um nicht ehrbare Soldaten in Kriegsgefangenschaft ausliefern zu müssen. Ihr Major wird aufgrund der Kriegsverbrechen und der Verbrechen gegen die Untertanen des hiesigen Scheichs der hiesigen Gerichtsbarkeit übergeben. Damit sollte der Gerechtigkeit genüge getan sein." With a stern and serious tone and matching expression the lean young Captain swears on his honor as a German officer that he will do all in his power to not hand over honorable soldiers who are POWs. Also Dietrich explains that their Major will be handed over to the local jurisdiction for war crimes and crimes against the local populace of the Sheikh to satisfy justice. "Sie sind ein Ehrenmann, Hauptmann Dietrich!", von Bibra states as representative of his unit and several soldiers can be heard to murmur in agreement, as the young nobleman calls Dietrich a man of honor.
Doktor Sommer simply smiles at the exchange, whispering: "Sie haben den Respekt dieser Männer ehrlich verdient, besonders da sie der Major nicht eines Blickes oder Gedanken gewürdigt hat." The German Doctor spits out the word Major with unprecedented contempt he has not even held for the Rat Patrol whose victims he has had to patch up for almost a year, as he tells Dietrich that the Hauptmann has earned their respect especially after their own Major has not wasted a gaze or thought on his men. The German Captain frowns and briefly glares at Major von Stolberg who lies on the cot constantly sedated since his outburst and tirade has disturbed the whole sickbay.
Wolf Bauer lies on a cot at some distance from the Major in a corner next to the young private Kierner who has lost his leg in Hitch' and Tully's distraction attack on Dietrich's fort and still looks pale, skinny and more dead than alive. His former Hauptmann eyes him with worry, as Sommer whispers: "Wir konnten ihn stabilisieren und sein Zustand bessert sich langsam, vor allem durch die Antibiotika der Schweizer und die regelmäßigen Rationen der Amerikaner." That the young man's state is improving through the Swiss antibiotics and the American rations is consoling Dietrich slightly and he moves his gaze to the Austrian on the cot next to him. Bauer has curled up again showing his back to the other patients while facing the wall. Even though he would be only a few centimetres shorter than his former Hauptmann, his slumped body would never give the impression. Unsure how to approach the young man, Hans Dietrich looks at his former Stabsarzt questioningly. "He is awake", Sommer whispers purposefully in English to not be understood so easily by the soldier. "You should best address him directly."
Following the advice, the lean German Captain walks around the cot to crouch at the side where Bauer is looking and frowns, as he takes in his former soldier's bruised appearance. "Bauer, öffnen Sie die Augen!", he gives the clear command after schooling his face into a more peaceful expression. Wolf Bauer obeys the command tone on instinct and once recognition settles in, his eyes widen in slight shock. "Herr Hauptmann, was tun Sie hier?" Dietrich raises his eyebrows in slight reprimand at the moronic question what he is doing here that he does not deign worthy of an answer. "Sie bereiten dem medizinischen Personal und mir einige Sorgen, Bauer. Als wir Sie hergebracht haben, waren Sie nicht bei klaren Sinnen." At the reprimand in a stern yet gentle tone that Bauer has caused the medical personnel and the officer some worries the young man blushes and averts meeting the other's gaze. "Hören Sie mir gut zu, Bauer! Ich habe Ihnen mein Wort gegeben, mich für Sie zu verwenden. Ich bin ein deutscher Offizier und werde mein Wort halten. Jedoch benötige ich ebenfalls Ihre Kooperation, sich nicht aufzugeben und weiterzumachen. Ihr Freund, Feldwebel Nemet, braucht Sie. Ich hielte es für das Beste, wenn Sie ihn begleiten und kann mit dem zuständigen Offizier sprechen, oder ihn zu Ihnen schicken, um das zu arrangieren." Wolf Bauer observes his young Captain closely, as the man orders him to listen intently and repeats his oath as a German officer to help and support him as best he can. His Hauptmann has always been true to his word, honest, honorable and considerate. When he reminds Wolf that his friend, Sergeant Nemet, needs him, the young man feels almost ashamed to not even have wasted a thought on his Hungarian mentor and just let himself sink into the darkness of depression. Dietrich's suggestion to accompany the Sergeant sounds reasonable when he comes to think about it and the Captain's offer to negotiate for him or send him the responsible officer is as any of the man's offers honest and in Wolf's best interest.
The young man has the impression that he really does not deserve the good man's protection and help. Unbidden and uncontrollable, tears come to his eyes and he fights them along with the demons rising to swallow him. "Wolf!", he can make out the concern and worry in the Captain's voice, as two arms hold him, one arm belonging to Dietrich, the other to his medic, Doktor Sommer. Both men look worried and Wolf only now realizes that he has hidden his face into the young Captain's sleeve of his forearm. His foster father would have beaten him black and blue for something like this, but the German officer looks worried, not angry or aggressive in the least. "Danke, Herr Hauptmann", he whispers his expression of gratitude with clear embarrassment, as he lets go of the Captain. "I...Ich werde über alles nachdenken, was Sie gesagt haben." Dietrich nods and still observes him with concern, while Bauer lets go of his arm and draws back, as if he had been burnt. "Tun Sie das in Ruhe, Soldat Bauer. Entscheidungen, die Ihr Leben derartig nachhaltig verändern, sollten Sie nicht leichtfertig treffen!", the young officer admonishes with a calm and serious tone. Bauer nods, but does not meet Dietrich's eye, as he confirms meekly: "Sie haben recht, Hauptmann Dietrich."
After assuring that the young man is safely under Doktor Sommer's care, Dietrich stands up with a wary sigh. This day is already getting exhausting before its most difficult phase has even started. "Would you give me a hug as well, Cap?", Hitch calls out to Dietrich loudly with a wide grin reminiscent of Troy. The Captain sighs wearily. As if this day has not been challenging enough already. At least he seems to be in a much better state when he is up to stupid jokes again. "You wouldn't want to make your girlfriend jealous this time", the German replies dryly, deflecting the stupid question. Eyeing the young private reveals that his arm and hand are still swollen, but not as critically as in the morning. His eyes looks keen enough to not indicate any severe fever. "Mark Hitchcock, what did you not tell me?", Lisa Hartigan demands to know with the insistant quality of a high inquisitor facing down a particularly stubborn heretic. "He is all yours, Lieutenant. But please leave him alive though. I still have need of a driver", Dietrich addresses her with a mixture of irony and politeness. "I'll do my best, Captain", she smirks. "Whatever did I do to deserve that, Capt'n?", Hitch asks with a whining tone reminiscent of Fritz begging for a sausage, while he hides his shock at the easily forged alliance between his girlfriend and the German officer. "Do you require a list, Private? Or is 'the events of the last few days' enough to spur your memory?", Dietrich asks dryly in response. Hitch groans, as Lisa grins diabolically. Deciding that the distraction for taking his leave will never get any better than that, the German Captain stalks out of sickbay quickly before anybody else considers stopping him.
"Captain Dietrich!" Corporal Gottschlich barely avoids colliding with the German officer in the sickbay's entrance through his own agility and quick reflexes only. "General Atkins asks for your presence. The Arabs are coming", the young man reports slightly out of breath. Wondering at the excellent timing and Moffit's almost perfect prediction, Dietrich follows him swiftly after a brief affirmation of the news. Eyeing his Captain's attire of his uniform paired with an Bedouin dagger and saber with clear curiosity, Gottschlich dares to ask: "Do you think the Arabs will agree to help us, Captain? They were really friendly yesterday." Dietrich frowns and considers his answer: "You must not let that fool you. They are tough negotiators and we really must not show too much weakness or offend them in any way. They are proud people and respect strength and honor." "Like you, Sir?", the young Corporal asks, taking his senior officer by surprise. Clearing his throat, the German Captain answers slightly hesitantly: "A bit, yes."
Jack Moffit saves Dietrich from further awkward comments, as he addresses the approaching Captain directly: "How is your shoulder, Captain? I hope you could get some morphine or painkilling medication." Dietrich nods with a serious expression. "I could renew my treatment, Doctor. I hope your... friend has informed you to your satisfaction and you could provide him with some support." Moffit has to admire the German officer for his elegant way of not directly asking him about Troy, while transporting his meaning well for the knowledgeable listener. "Please leave us alone, Corporal!", the British scholar sends the slightly surprised Corporal Gottschlich away before turning back to the German Captain. "You were right about the strong drink", he starts his answer with dry humor. "And as much as it pains me to admit this, Troy was right to trust you more than me to help him with this." Dietrich is actually surprised at the honest admission, but corrects the misconception immediately: "I have neither experience with such situations nor am I his friend. The best I could do was keep the Troy brothers from smashing each other's head." Jack Moffit studies the German's face, but concludes that the Captain as usual is honest about his answer, even though he is fairly wrong about some statements. "That makes you a noble man who will have to suffer the torments of Tantalus, as long as the two of them remain in camp together", he comments dryly and sees Dietrich frown immediately, before he replies equally dryly: "David Troy at least was easier to cower into submission than his brother ever will be." Moffit smirks at the mental image of the lean German officer snapping at the loud mouthed American he has gotten to know a few months ago. It does not require much imagination to visualise the stern Captain to lose his patience with the two Troy brothers.
Sam Troy comes marching toward them with determination and Moffit can observe Dietrich beside him tense and narrow his eyes slightly with an expression of actual concern, before he schools his face into neutrality. The German Captain astounds him with the amount of respect and sympathy he has been able to show his former longtime enemies in spite of all the losses he has suffered at their hands. After missing most of the events of the last days in camp he realizes that he has also missed how and when the young officer has become not only grudgingly tolerated while being viewed with constant suspicion, but respected by the majority of the men. The German's perspective seems to still be one where he feels to be surrounded by his enemies, as Moffit can easily deduce from his tense stance. But considering that his own former side has betrayed and almost killed him, the Captain does show them an unexpectedly high amount of faith. Troy has apparently been right that the man is too straight and honest to be able to live with constant suspicion against everyone around him for long. The two have meanwhile started a discussion about Dietrich's withdrawal, Sam Troy's brother David and the Troy family annoying the German beyond his breaking point and moved a few steps ahead of Jack Moffit during their argument.
"What are Sarge and Cap doing bickering like an old married couple?", Tully draws the Brit out of his observations and assessment of the German officer with his unexpected question. "You'd better not ask them or they might involve you in their discussion, Tully", Moffit advises and Tully bites down on his matchstick with an expression that tells clearly that this is the last thing he would wish to happen. Corporal Gottschlich who stands to the side forgotten by most observes the two superiors' discussion with an expression of disbelief and disapproval. Major Turner's approach finally ends the discourse between Dietrich and Troy as both look up and eye the American officer with mirrored expressions of wary curiosity. "Captain Dietrich. We are expecting you to join the General for the reception of the Arabs!" The German looks actually embarrassed, while Troy shows no sense of having done anything wrong, as he glares at the Major, as if he is the one being scolded. "It's my fault. I held up the Captain", the Sergeant growls, before Dietrich even gets the chance to answer to the accusation. The German looks actually perplexed at the admission, even though it is the truth. "I let myself be distracted which is my own fault, Major. I will take the responsibility for my own actions", he adds sternly, glaring at Troy for interfering in his matters, even in his defence. "We'd better not keep the General waiting much longer", Jack Moffit interferes before the two squabblers continue trying to bear the blame for the other's actions. Major Turner gives him a grateful look for his intervention and leads them toward the prepared tent.
A roaring noise stops any thoughts of continuing discussions along the final part of the way to the General's prepared festive tent for negotiations which are to take place in the redecorated canteen tent which has been moved to the rim of the camp. The RAF pilots are about to take off which is best done before the Bedouins arrive with camels and horses that might be spooked by the noise. One by one the planes gather speed on the uneven desert ground and fight to make it into the air with only their leader being an exception, as the Fieseler Storch takes off with the practiced ease and elegance only its experienced pilot manages. When they reach the tent, only a single airplane has remained on the ground, David Troy's, while the others disappear in the direction of north-north-west from whence they have come.
The Arabs have not yet arrived and are currently still a dustcloud on the horizon growing in size at a moderate speed, but General Atkins looks slightly nervous nonetheless, as he stands among the round of the camp's officers of all Allied parties, Australians, Brits and Americans. "Captain Dietrich, Doctor Moffit. I have been awaiting you. I want you to repeat the briefing of all involved officers what kind of behaviour ot avoid, even though they do not speak the language." "Sergeant Moffit is the most qualified person to adivse us on what is appropriate and what is not", Dietrich adds with a serious expression. "I must warn you in addition that one of them, the Sheikh's brother's younger son, Fatjon, actually speaks some English and is therefore able to understand you. So it will be important to refrain from any derisive comments or statements which could be interpreted as an offense." Several officers frown at the revelation, but Moffit appears unperturbed. "This does not change anything regarding the advice for your behaviour and speech, gentlemen. You must always keep your expressions and body language under control!" His gaze wanders over the assembled officers and finally rests on Sam Troy who tries his best defensive grin which does not deter Jack Moffit in the least. With the manner of speech of a Cambridge lecturer instructing his blockheaded first year students, the British scholar continues his speech for the next three minutes, until Troy and Lieutenant Griffith both look so utterly bored that they are about to start some kind of needless questioning just to break the monotony.
"It is appropriate that you, General Atkins, give the gift of honor to the Sheikh's son. Captain Dietrich should be the main interpreter for you and I would advise to conduct all your interactions with him as your adviser and interpreter, as he has a special standing with this specific Bedouin tribe and I would not be treated with the same reverence." The German Captain keeps his gaze directed straight ahead and only briefly meets Moffit's eye, nodding curtly. This is the very reason why he undergoes the painful task of participating in these negotiations after all. "While leading the Sheikh's son and his closest advisers around the camp, we require a tight security without appearing aggressive or distrustful", Dietrich argues with a stern expression. "Lieutenant Winters, Griffith, Carlos and Adams will take care of this", Captain Boggs answers his concern. "You should also keep in mind that even though Major von Stolberg's men are somewhat appeased now, they might start an actual uprising, when their commanding officer is handed to the Arabs for execution and potential torture. Having an officer with troops ready to observe them and prevent this is necessary. The ones in the sickbay have realized by now that the Major has abandoned them, caring about nobody but himself, but the rest do not share this experience", the German Captain argues and his contempt for the other German is obvious from his tone and expression. "We'll keep an eye on those krauts", Winters replies gruffly, but as Dietrich glares at him, he adds with an apologising tone: "Sorry, Captain. Didn't mean to insult you." Captain Boggs hides his surprise at the silent exchange. The German officer has indeed gained an unexpected amount of respect in the past days, as the rough First Lieutenant would have enjoyed nothing more than rubbing such an insult in his face only a few days ago.
"Then all is settled and arranged and we can await our guests. I expect you all to represent your army and your country accordingly, gentlemen!", General Atkins announces in a stately manner. Hans Dietrich briefly winces and closes his eyes at the words, but determination is written all over his face and stance once he opens them again. The dustcloud on the horizon has moved close enough for the single riders to become discernible. Dietrich counts 15, likely Hassan and his cousins accompanied by several warriors and possibly one of his father's advisors. "Captain Dietrich", Moffit addresses him quietly and the German turns toward him with raised eyebrows. "I would prefer to observe more quietly given my injured lung and leave the main talking with our guests to you. I will perform the translation for our officers, while you conduct negotiations." The Captain nods curtly in acceptance. "I will remain closeby should you have any questions on how to deal with certain situations." "Of course, Doctor. I thank you for your advice and coming here in spite of your state of health", the lean Captain replies with honesty and Jack briefly stares at him rather baffled, since Dietrich is hardly in any better shape than he is. "Captain Dietrich!", Atkins calls and the German tenses into an even straighter stance, eyeing the superior officer attentively with slight wariness. "You will accompany me to greet our guests!" The German officer nods curtly and regrets deeply that his usual approach of saluting to accept a command is out of question.
The Arabs ride in a close formation. As Dietrich has predicted, Hassan, Murat and Fatjon ride at the front accompanied by warriors armed with sabers, rifles and even 4 automatic guns looted from the SS soldiers. The three leaders of the Sheikh's family dismount along with 5 soldiers serving as their armed guards, while the others stay on their mounts and take the reins of the waiting horses. "*Allah protect you, Hassan ibn Sulaiman. We are honoured that you along with Murat ibn Muhammad and Fatjon ibn Muhammad have agreed to be our guests. I assure you of our hospitality and friendship in the name of our Sheikh, General Atkins, and his adviser, Major Turner.*" Although the American officers do not understand a word spoken they bow immitating the German Captain, when they hear their names spoken. "*You have proven to be our friends by bringing us the murderer of Meryem, my father's brave wife who gave her life to save his, this man who cowardly tried to kill him, our Sheikh, as well, faris alsahra. My father, Sheikh Sulaiman sends his regards to you specifically and your soldier who came to treat him yesterday. His fever and the pain of his poisoned wound is much better since you treated him. For this you also have my gratitude and that of my cousins.*" Dietrich bows politely, as do the Bedouins, while the German hears Moffit behind him provide a quietly spoken translation for the General and Major along with the other Allied officers nearby. Atkins makes a gesture that indicates that the Captain should continue which Dietrich does with all the diplomatic skill he can muster: "*We are glad to receive the news that your father, the Sheikh, is getting better. Please send him our regards and wishes for a fast and full recovery, Prince Hassan.*" Hassan and his cousins nod approvingly.
"*We have observed your steel falcons, faris alsahra*", Murat states with some awe. "*Briefly their roars have startled our horses, but we could see that they meant us no harm*", his cousin Hassan states sternly after giving the younger man a reprimanding look for speaking out of term. "*I can see that one of your flying machines is still here. We would like to see it, if this is possible.*" Dietrich tenses visibly, but assures them that he will pass on their request which he does immediately with a stoic expression. "This is an easy to give favour which I will grant of course", General Atkins agrees almost enthusiastically. "I recommend you hand the Prince your gift, Sir, and pass some time with small talk while the pilot is summoned", Moffit advises with a whisper and briefly exchanges glances with the German officer who will serve as the main interpreter for this exchange. "This is like a nightmare coming true I didn't know I had until now", the German murmurs quietly enough for only the bemused Jack Moffit to hear, before he gives a loud command: "Fetch Captain David Troy and tell him to expect us at his plane in proper attire as soon as possible, Corporal Gottschlich!"
Then he turns back to the waiting Bedouins. "*We will summon the pilot of the airplane, Prince Hassan. Until then we would wish to give you, as the representative of the Sheikh, a gift of hospitality.*" "You may hand him the gun now, General", he mutters more quietly, instructing the American who holds out the weapon with both hands. Hassan picks it up and eyes it curiously seeing the finely carved gun butt. "*This weapon is a family heirloom of Major Turner from the war for freedom fought in his country.*" The Bedouin prince replies with a serious tone after handing the gift to his cousin Murat who eyes it with equal curiosity. "*A thoughtful and honorable gift for which I thank your Sheikh and his adviser. You find me embarrassed to have come empty-handed, faris alsahra. Please assure them of my gratitude.*" "*You have nothing to feel embarrassed for, Prince Hassan*", Dietrich assures him diplomatically, before turning to the American officers to provide the translation. "I start to see why Rommel has entrusted you with such missions fairly often compared to your fellow officers of the German army, Captain", Atkins comments contently. "Tell him a trade agreement is the best gift he can give us!" The German Captain bears an inscrutable expression wondering silently if the arrogant American General actually has the nerve to mock him openly like this or is actually serious, then nods curtly and turns back to the waiting Bedouins. "*A favorable agreement on trade is valuable enough a gift for the Sheikh. He does not ask for anything further for himself*", Dietrich reformulates the American General's rather undiplomatic statement and hopes that Fatjon is not able to tell the nuances apart. "Well done", Jack Moffit whispers barely perceptibly. "That could have been a diplomatic catastrophe." The German nods curtly in agreement, then focuses his attention again on his main task at hand. "What are acceptable topics for small talk with Bedouin Sheikhs, Doctor? My experience is limited to German officers' clubs and the few champagne parties I was tolerated at", Dietrich whispers almost as quietly. "I suggest horses and battle stories given who you are." For a moment Moffit sees an emotion in the German Captain's eye that clearly communicates his annoyed question 'what is that supposed to mean?'. But his self control suffices to not start such a discussion now, but answer with a sharp nod, before he turns back to the Bedouins.
Starting with a compliment to the prince for his and his men's bravery in fighting alongside the LRDG against the German unit of Major von Stolberg, Jack Moffit is surprised that Captain Dietrich is actually more competent at this task than he would have expected him to be after past events. Apparently the young officer is smart enough and not too arrogant to learn from his own mistakes and accept good advice which has made him such a dangerous and competent foe in their past, but makes him a valuable ally in the present and future. From the corner of his eyes, Dietrich can make out the movement in the direction of the airplane. Gottschlich has summoned David Troy successfully and his ordeal of keeping their guests entertained and distracted by small talk will hopefully be over soon. The announcement of visiting the 'steel falcon' causes true excitement in all the young Bedouins, even Fatjon's eyes gleam with curiosity, although he appears to have the most experience with Western technology.
Against all of Dietrich's worst expectations, David Troy is well-behaved, jovial and civil, when showing his plane's motor, propellers and interior to the curious visitors, not even interrupting the German Captain's translation of his explanations. The rowdy American might be deserving of his officer's rank after all. "Thank you, Captain Troy", Dietrich murmurs, as they are about to leave to show their guests the rest of the camp. "That was great fun. We should do that more often, Dietrich. We work well as a team", the younger Troy brother answers with a grin, while the German Captain glares at him, fighting with the urge to strangle the insufferable man. From now on, he would think twice before snapping at Sam Troy for one of his comments.
The camp tour for their honoured guests takes them to the motor pool which Lieutenant Carlos keeps guarded with several armed soldiers. After the detailed show and explanation Hitchcock has provided them with only a day before, they do not spend much time there, just enough to give the Sheikh's son an impression of their fighting strength, even though most of the Australians' Jeeps are out on their missions. The large amount of prisoners is surprising to the Bedouins. Murat asks with surprise: "*Are all these your prisoners or some of them your servants and slaves.*" The German officer winces and pales slightly, visibly struggling for a reply that would not result in a diplomatic catastrophe, as he clenches his jaws. "*Slavery is against our laws, principles and beliefs*", Jack Moffit comes to his aid with his quiet and controlled reply. The Bedouins merely nod in acceptance and continue walking through the camp speaking among themselves, as the German Captain whispers: "Thank you, Doctor!" "You're quite welcome", the British Sergeant replies coolly. "We're lucky Troy doesn't speak Arabic though." "Indeed", comes the sarcastic answer, before they both continue with their respective duties.
"*Where do you keep the leader of our tribesmen's murderers and the assassins who attacked my father and his second wife?*", Hassan finally asks with a growl. "*We keep him in the tent on the wounded, as he was injured when attempting to flee from here.*", District explains matter-of-factually. "*Follow me, then I can show you, why we keep him there and wish to trade with you for supplies for our men.*" Hassan nods in approval. "*I have already seen that you have many soldiers and prisoners. Meeting your medics is interesting though.*" As they enter the sickbay, all Arabs wrinkle their noses with disgust. "It is habit among Arab doctors to use fragrant herb to hide the stench of sickness", Moffit whispers in Dietrich's ear as an explanation. "They consider us barbarians in the one hand. On the other hand this is a field hospital where different rules apply." Dietrich nods then steps forward to quickly guide the Arabs to the German Major and back out of the tent. "*This is the murderer of your tribesmen*", he points at the man. Fortunately, Tully Pettigrew's explosion has left enough marks on his body to justify why they keep him sedated in sickbay. "*If you wish to start the negotiations, Prince Hassan, we can do so now.*" The Bedouin Prince agrees immediately, eager to leave the disgusting tent stinking of rot and sickness. Moffit has informed the American General and Major in the meantime of the intent. "The British officers have agreed to provide tea, dried fruits and cookies for the negotiations which we will hold in the canteen tent, Captain", Atkins informs the younger officer who translates the invitation to the civilised discussion over tea and refreshments for the Arabs. Accompanied by their armed guards, the three Bedouin members of the Sheikh's family, follow the delegation of officers to the canteen tent. Lieutenant Johnson is already awaiting them with a large pot of tea and stands at attention in a straight stance, as soon as the officers and guests enter the tent.
The Arabs look irritated at the chairs standing around the table and Moffit starts whispering instructions to bring forth pillows and blankets to properly prepare their seating, while Dietrich distracts them with an invitation to have tea prepared in their own classical way without adding anything to it or in the English way with condensed milk and sugar which sparks enough curiosity to buy them time to hide the potential fauxpas. The English Lieutenant starts a quiet talk with Fatjon about their brands of tea, while Dietrich translates for the American General and other assembled officer the praise prince Hassan provides for the camp, machinery and soldiers' discipline, as well as their fighting strength which he has noticed with respect.
For the actual negotiations, General Atkins, Major Turner, Captain Boggs and Brown take a seat at the table along with Captain Dietrich and Sergeant Moffit who naturally stay as interpreters and advisers. "*As I have already told you often, faris alsahra. We want to put the murderers of our tribesman on trial and bring justice to the dead*", Hassan states sharply. "*As I have already told your father yesterday and shown you today, we have a large camp here with many prisoners and wounded soldiers. As a good Sheikh, General Atkins wants to provide for his people and assure that through trading with you for food and water until we are able to leave from this area which we will without trying to harm you or your people. Your father and I have performed such trades for months, when my camp was still located within your town's fort. We both have always kept our side of the bargain and been reliable trade partners.*" "*Until your last bargain, before you left and the Ifrit have taken over your fort*", Hassan reminds him that he has never completed the arranged transaction with his father, before the SS has started to terrorize the town. "*I can only ask for your leniency, as this has not been within my power to decide, since my former superior in command called me to his aid and I tried to protect your father by sending him away from the SS men you call demons*", the German Captain answers with a carefully modulated voice that transfers his truthfulness along with a certain degree of humility. All Allied officers observe him intently, while Jack Moffit provides his quiet translation. "*We do not hold this against you. You have always kept your word when given and stood by your agreements without cowardice, even rode and fought with us with the brave heart of a lion, faris alsahra. For this reason we speak with you and ask for your guarantee that your people will keep their word as well, as we do not know them and their honorability*", Hassan explains. Dietrich nods in acceptance and guarantees his truthfulness, then waits for Moffit to finish his translation, before he focuses the General with a stare, awaiting his orders.
"We start with offering to hand over the Major alone", Atkins states clearly. "Only when they ask for more, can we start further discussions." The German officer briefly looks as if he would like to argue with this, but then turns to the Arabs with a stern expression. "*We have seen ourselves some of the crimes committed by the leader of the military unit who murdered the men of your caravan and sent the assassins to your father. I assure you, Prince Hassan, that we condemn them as much as you do. They are crimes and he would have to stand on trial for them in our community as in yours.*" Dietrich does not add that the deaths of a few Arabs would not hold the same value as the deaths of their own soldiers for the Allies and that Major von Stolberg might even escape through a high ranking prisoner exchange or buying himself free with high valued secret information. "*We are willing to hand him over to you for a proper trial through a fair judge, just as the assassin has received it and not to be tortured and lynched.*" Hassan nods grimly, but affirms that it is his intention to put the German Major on trial for his crimes, as the laws of their land demand. "*We cannot offer any other of his high-ranking officers, as they have all been killed in the fights or the escape attempt*", Dietrich explains gravely. "*The others are ordinary soldiers who have as little influence on their leaders' decision, as your warriors have on yours, Prince Hassan. I appeal to your sense of honor that you do not to have all these men killed needlessly.*" Too proud to plead, he uses the argument he himself would be unable to refuse, knowing Hassan's strong sense of warrior's honor. "*To kill all men of a tribe for their leader's actions is not what our laws ask of us, faris alsahra. Do you swear that all who are leaders are dead except for the one you captured in the night?*", the Arab prince declares with no less pride than the German officer. "*You have my word of honor as an officer that none other than himself who bear actual responsibility are still alive*", Dietrich speaks with enough conviction to leave the Bedouins without doubt about his honesty.
"We ask for a regular trade route", General Atkins declares after Moffit has translated the German Captain's plea and the Arabs' response. "Do you intend to establish a permanent camp here, General?", Dietrich asks slightly astonished. "Even though I have been in command of the town's fort for months, I have never established a fixed trade route, but traded and haggled on a day to day basis. With all due respect, General, but this part of the desert has changed its occupying power far too regularly in the past year to even consider a regularity in trading." "The Captain is quite right that the concept of permanent agreements for trading food is not really established here, as much depends on the rainfall and other aspects of the desert which can be quite a fickle lady", Moffit supports the German who acknowledges his efforts with a respectful nod. "Asking for the equivalent of supplies for one or two weeks time and a discount on the pricing would be reasonable", Dietrich adds, once the Brit has finished. Atkins looks between the two of them with furrowed eyebrows, then agrees to ask for rations for three weeks, before reducing the offer in further haggling.
Fifteen minutes later, when the first of the Allied officers is close to yawning from boredom, Moffit announces their success which would have been obvious without his declaration, as Dietrich politely bows to the Bedouin prince. Shaking hands is out of question with his right arm in the sling and the left considered unclean in Islam, but Hassan shakes hands with the General himself instead as the leader of the group, even though he does not speak Arabic. "We have agreed that we can trade with their traders for the equivalent of food for 200 soldiers for ten to eleven days. This is almost half of their town's total supplies for a month, General", the German officer explains the arrangement and final outcome of his negotiations. Atkins nods in acknowledgement. "Well done, Captain." The German bows his head slightly, then turns back to the Bedouin with a sly expression. "*I have a suggestion for you to make a gift to the General which he truly appreciates*", Dietrich argues smoothly and all three Bedouins listen intently. "*In the fort which you have taken over after my unit left is a locked metal cupboard which contains secret information from the men you call Ifrit.*" Hassan nods grimly. "*We tried to open it, even shot with the guns of the Ifrit, but that only killed one of my warriors and wounded another. That thing is cursed by Allah itself.*"
The German winces slightly at the mental image of the ricochetting bullets of the machine gun killing the unsuspecting Arab. "*I have other, more subtle ways of opening it and relieving you of the curse, Prince Hassan*", he offers calmly, but Moffit recognizes his lurking gaze fixed on the Bedouin. "*If you would allow one of our men to go there and retrieve what is inside.*" Hassan considers this, before agreeing. "*It holds only death for us. Your General may have what is inside, if this a valuable gift for him. But we will let noone enter without your presence, faris alsahra!*" Briefly a satisfied smile of successfully having sprung his trap passes over Dietrich's face, before the realization hits him that he will have to drive out there himself independent of his injuries. Nonetheless, he agrees smoothly: "*I am honored by your trust, Prince Hassan.*" Hassan bows his head in the stately manner worthy of the future Sheikh of these lands. "*You may accompany us tomorrow, when we return to town, faris alsahra. Then you can also conclude your first trade on the bazaar.*" The German Captain agrees to this deal wholeheartedly, as it will be the fastest and least risky way of taking care of the camp's supplies.
Hans Dietrich's face looks haggard and drawn, as he looks after the Bedouins leaving an hour later after having small talk over tea, biscuits and dried fruit to set up their camp behind the dunes where he would meet them tomorrow with whoever would follow him on the mission. If he was not too proud to show such weakness, he would ask to be released to go the sickbay immediately. General Atkins and his corps of officers quickly take their leave, while the LRDG officers remain. "That went really well", Captain Boggs agrees with Captain Brown. "Your contacts aided us greatly, Captain", Moffit tells the German officer with a soft whisper, as his lung feels affected after a whole day of speaking. "As did your expertise, Doctor", Dietrich replies smoothly, putting on his usual mask of stern professionalism with some difficulty to hide his growing fatigue and pain. "You... we can only be grateful to have it." Tiredness causes his tongue to slip, when the not yet subconsciously fully ingrained concept of changing sides catches up with him and several of the other officers eye the German with expressions ranging from wariness to pity, none of which sits well with him. "You both did really great!", Sam Troy exclaims with a grin, as he pats both Moffit and Dietrich on the shoulder, careful to not to use too much force with either of the injured men, as none of the two appears totally stable on his feet. "You've definitely earned your dinner for today." "Are you trying to imply that we usually do not earn our food, Sergeant?", the German asks with a tinge of sarcasm. "Indeed old man. One could view this as a serious insult", Moffit adds in a mock affronted tone. "Well, no. That's not what I meant", Troy stumbles over his words slightly, until he sees the two exchange amused glances. "You're pulling one over me, you braggarts!" "We actually possess the skills to back up our behaviour, Sergeant", Dietrich comments dryly. "You'd better not argue with the Captain, when he's absolutely right", Moffit provides him with backup smoothly and Troy realizes that his worst fear of their alliance being forged has come true.
"So, when do we celebrate our victory?", David Troy asks the surrounded officers without any sense of propriety. "I like your brother's attitude, Sammy", Brown announces and chuckles, as he sees Troy and Dietrich glare at both of them with mirrored expressions of annoyance. "They're as thick as thieves, wouldn't you say so, Aussie?", Dave asks Browny with a stage whispers, as he elbows him in the ribs with a conspiratorial look. "I wouldn't have thought it possible, but your brother truly manages to surpass you in annoying me by far", Dietrich mutters to Sam Troy in dry sarcasm. "I'll invite you the next time we're having a heart to heart", Sam Troy grins. "That would provide me with sufficient warning to take a day off or get appropriate medication in advance", comes the dry reply. "We definitely need to keep him as a family friend. Mom would love him", David adds with a grin. This family will be my doom, the German muses pinching his nose and looks startled, as both Troy brothers laugh loudly. "What is so funny?", Dietrich snaps, finally losing his nerve. "You didn't even protest. That says a lot about you." The German Captain glares at both of them, before replying with dry sarcasm: "Thats only, because I'm still preoccupied cursing the day I ever crossed paths with your family." "Now don't be too strict with them, Captain", Brown admonishes good-naturedly. "The lads mean well. They can't help being uncouth Yankees." "Browny! I thought you were on our side!", Sam Troy grunts. "This is not about sides, Troy", Moffit speaks quietly with irony, "What kind of friends would we all be to lie to you?" "Please refrain from including me in such statements, Sergeant Moffit", Dietrich comments dryly with an exaggerated weary groan.
"Captain Brown!", an Australian soldier Dietrich recognizes comes running towards them. "Sergeant Williamson has returned with the Jeeps and trucks." "Excellent, Daniels", Brown smiles broadly. "I'll take a look at that myself. Gentlemen, you are of course invited to join me." Dietrich's professional interest is immediately piqued and in addition this provides him with a perfectly respectable and unconspicuous escape route from the Troy brothers' mayhem. As he follows the Australian Captain closely, the German addresses him quietly: "Captain Brown. You told me yesterday night that you have an inofficial expert for gaining access to otherwise inaccessible locations." Brown eyes him with obvious curiosity. "Indeed. I do." "I would need to ask you to send the man along with us and the Arabs tomorrow to gain access to the SS officers' safe and documents therein. The Bedouin prince has agreed to allow us access for this maneuver", Dietrich explains calmly. "I'm sure Private Lakatos will be delighted to help you, once he's returned", Brown answers with a smile. "He's from a Hungarian family and rumor says he has some gypsy blood in his veins. Just the kind of man for, how did you put this, a rogue skilled with artful deception, picking locks and pockets." "I'm not a rogue!", the German Captain protests indignantly. Brown laughs loudly. "If that's the only thing you can plausibly deny, it says a lot about you, my dear fellow. It's really too bad the Yankees weren't willing to trade. I could immediately think of half a dozen of our brass I'd rather get rid of to gain someone like you." "You may break me out of prison once I overstep the appropriate level of tolerable insubordination again", Dietrich deadpans hoping to end this discussion. "That's the spirit that makes you fit right in with us!", comes a shout from behind. With a sigh, the German Captain sees that the trio infernale, consisting of Moffit and the Troy brothers, has almost caught up with them.
"Hans", Ari takes them by surprise, as he comes running and hugs his main caregiver around the waist. The German Captain puts his good arm on the boy's shoulder and starts speaking quietly with the child in their usual Arabic with some Hebrew terms mixed in between. His exhaustion is apparent from the fact that he does not even try to crouch or bend down, but keeps standing swaying slightly on his feet. "What's going on?", David Troy asks his brother rather conspicuously. "Who's that boy? They look nothing alike", David comments which is the wrong implication to not trigger his brother's ire who bellows furiously: "Not everyone is like you, Dave, you goddamn...!" "Troy!", Dietrich's sharp shout interrupts his upcoming tirade. "You're scaring the boy", the German Captain continues in a more silent and moderate tone, once the noise has quieted down. Ari indeed has buried his face in the man's tunic and is shivering slightly. "Sorry, Captain", Sam Troy mutters sheepishly and his brother looks almost equally embarrassed. The German officer does not spare them more than a short exasperated glance, before he speaks calmly and reassuringly with the scared child. "The boy is a Jewish orphan whose parents and siblings were killed in the massacre Captain Dietrich has tried to prevent. He even turned openly against the SS which has earned him his death sentence in the German Wehrmacht", Jack Moffit explains matter-of-factually in a soft voice to not strain his lung any further on this day. "That's the fellow I'd trust with a child first in this camp", Browny comments with a grin. "Hey. I like kids and wouldn't harm them!", Sam Troy protests. "But you wouldn't think about not scaring them or adapting your way of acting first, Sammy, when you're in the middle of your pig-headed quarrel with your brother", Brown argues. "Your Jerry friend's more considerate than the two of you. And you should both really be ashamed of your behaviour!" Sam and David Troy appear slightly bedraggled to be scolded like this by the older Australian. Jack looks quite amused to see the unruly Troy brothers dressed down after the day of ups and downs they have put them all through.
Only Dietrich cannot enjoy the sight, as he is occupied with calming Ari which is apparently a success, as the boy tries to drag him somewhere after having grabbed the hand of his good arm. If the German Captain's scowl is anything to go by, he is either concerned or wondering where they are going. "*Ari, where is Jakob?*", Hans asks with actual worry. "*I'll show you*", the child crows enthusiastically, "*we have a surprise for you.*" The combination of Jakob and the term 'surprise' causes almost as much wariness in Hans Dietrich, as the combination of the Rats with the very same term. Unawares of the older man's unease, Ari pulls him along on his injured arm. Too curious to resist, Moffit follows them and where he goes Sam Troy cannot be far behind, neither is his brother, while Captain Brown stays to receive a report from his Sergeant.
A few minutes later, Ari's joyful laughter mixes with Fritz' excited bark, as they move closer to their intended destination. The little dog comes sprinting around a dune and jumps up at the German in his usual overenergetic manner. "Fritz, runter!", Dietrich orders sternly, as he is already not 100 percent stable on his feet and not in the condition to bend down to humor his unit mascot. Fritz does not mind too much, as he has discovered further potential sources for petting and cuddles. Running past Moffit, the furry bundle of energy turns directly toward Sam Troy, one of his more reliable friends among the current soldiers, since he is missing Hitch. Hans Dietrich does not waste any further thoughts on the dog, as he approaches a man in an American uniform kneeling in the sand. As Jakob hears them coming nearer, he sits up to greet them, while his face bears a wide smile at the sight of Ari dragging his friend along and Jack Moffit coming behind them. "Hans, Doktor Moffit. You both should see what we have found thanks to Fritz digging in the sand", the young Lieutenant shouts and waves them closer.
Dietrich stops short, momentarily startled, when he can make out what lies in the sand before his friend. "A mummy", Moffit mutters in surprise and with clear curiosity, as the British scholar bears an expression, as if Christmas has come early. "I let you out of my sight for a few hours only, Jakob, and you start a new career as a graverobber and even drag Ari into this along with you?", Dietrich ask with irony and incredulity. "I'm starting to reconsider whether entrusting you with the boy is a wise decision." "Come on, Hans! This is an amazing finding", Jakob counters good-naturedly. "It is indeed", Moffit whispers in awe, as he kneels next to the dead body and studies it intently. "A Napoleonic soldier most likely, if those bluish rests of the uniform are anything to go by, mummified and mostly preserved, not buried in some mass grave after a battle. This is amazing." "Forgive me my lack of enthusiasm for disturbing a dead soldier's final rest", Dietrich counters acerbically. "I have buried enough soldiers in these sands to not feel particularly joyful about partaking in this 'study'." Jakob eyes his friend with some sympathy, while Moffit does not even spare him another glance. "I can share your sentiment, Captain. Digging some poor guy out of his grave just feels wrong", Troy startles the German completely, as he puts his hand on the younger man's shoulder. Feeling his newly declared brother flinch, Ari presses more closely against him in an instinctive urge to feel protected. Letting his arm rest on the boy's shoulder in a reassuring gesture, Dietrich glares at Troy and growls softly: "I was under the impression that we had agreed on you not sneaking up on me any more." Troy smiles apologetically. "You must've been too tired to hear me. I wasn't sneaking at all." "Yeah. He was about as sneaky as an elephant as opposed to a cat", David Troy adds helpfully. "I see why you feel much happier not having him around, Sergeant", the German mutters sarcastically.
"This is incredible!", Jack Moffit exclaims. "That is the only fitting description for what he is doing", Dietrich mutters with no less sarcasm than before and Troy grins at the comment. "Look at this! This soldier did not just die from an ordinary wound, his throat was cut, almost taking off his head." "The classical wound of an infantry man cut down by a cavalry saber in full galopp", Dietrich argues coolly. Moffit glares at the German Captain for his lack of enthusiasm, as he continues with his lecture tone in clear annoyance: "I wasn't finished yet! This man clearly was an officer, the medals from his uniform have not rotted away, neither have the buttons and rank insignia, or the ancient Egyptian amulets and jewelry he has carried somewhere in his uniform. But most strangely, somebody stabbed him through the heart with an ancient Egyptian ritual dagger." "The curse of the pharaoh", Troy whispers. "Indeed you could call it that", Jakob Silberblatt agrees with a grin. "Don't humor him!", Moffit scolds him and Dietrich refrains from rolling his eyes in light of the absurdity of the situation. "Although I respect your academic curiosity and qualification, Doctor, we are not here to solve the mystery of the death of a French officer who died more than 100 years ago through a weapon that is more than 2000 years old", the German officer argues sternly.
"Aren't you curious in the least, Captain?", Moffit sounds incredulous. "You may not believe it, Sergeant, but I have more than 200 men to worry about who are still alive, while neither this soldier nor who ever killed him is alive anymore. Finish your studies or whatever you want to call this and then bury that poor soul, um Gottes Willen!", Dietrich orders with determination. Sam Troy can feel a shiver running down the German's spine and standing close enough he sees that his eyes are slightly glazed. "Captain. Stay with us!" Dietrich blinks then shakes his head to clear it of the fog winding around his brain, as exhaustion and pain undermine his concentration. Ari's tight hold provides him with an anchor to reality, while Troy has changed his grip on his shoulder to bear some of the taller man's weight. "Hans!" Jakob Silberblatt sounds no less worried than the American Sergeant, as he comes running to his friend's side, while Fritz sensing that something is off whines desperately and jumps up the German Captain's leg who does not even protest. "We'd better take him back to camp", Sam Troy suggests in a way that does not tolerate resistance. "Jack, get done with that nonsense and then move along!" Moffit is about to protest against the derisive comment, when he looks up to see Dietrich's ashen face and haunted look that is still fixed on the mummy. The German Captain is right that the living are more important to care for than the dead, the Brit has to remind himself, as he takes the Egyptian artefacts and pulls the ancient dagger from the mummified corpse's leathery chest for further studies. David Troy actually comes over to help him bury the Frenchman back in the sand, before pulling the tall Brit to his feet and helping him along, as he comments: "You don't look all too steady on your feet either, Doc."
Walking seems to stimulate Dietrich's circulation enough to help him regain some coherence and sense of what is happening around him, but that also increases his perception of his current pain level. "You two are going nowhere else but to sickbay right away", Sam Troy decides without meeting any resistance. Jakob Silberblatt looks seriously worried about his friend who has to lean on the American Sergeant's shoulder more and more heavily to keep upright at all. "What a fascinating find", Moffit mutters quietly without having lost any of his enthusiasm, as he eyes a gilded amulet, "this could be a depiction of Osiris from the second dynasty. The style of engraving indicates the late period." All those around him eye him warily, but the German Captain is the first to lose his nerve with the needless babbling, as he snaps: "Moffit, shut up! Even Troy is preferable company right now." "That's what true friendship sounds like", Sam Troy adds with a grin that is shared by Jakob Silberblatt."He really doesn't treat me any different." "Jakob, shut up!", the German Captain snaps unnerved and at his limit with tolerating pain and exhaustion. "You see?", Jakob argues with a grin. "I see exactly what you mean", Troy grins back and adapts his grip to keep the lean officer from stumbling, as he tries to struggle against the grip. "Stop it, Dietrich! I've had mules less stubborn than you." "If you're trying to make a compliment, Sergeant, you might consider reformulating it", the German counters dryly. Troy and Silberblatt exchange worried glances, as the last syllables sound quite slurred.
"Hans", Dietrich can make out his friend's voice through a thickening haze of pain, dizziness and fatigue. Troy has not dropped him yet, not that he would suspect the American Sergeant to do so independent of insults traded. Although each step feels like a struggle, simply taking the easy way out by letting go and fainting is unacceptable for the proud German officer. Gritting his teeth, he continues his fight for every further step. "Sammy, what's wrong with my favourite Jerry?", Dietrich can make out the annoying voice of Troy's insolent Australian mentor. "The dear Major should be perfectly fine in our sickbay", the haggard looking officer grinds out with sarcasm. "When he can make jokes and sarcastic comments, he's still more or less okay", Troy affirms beside him. "Captain Dietrich", Brown addresses Dietrich directly now, hopefully not to annoy him further since his patience is worn thinner than tissue paper already. But the Aussie's voice sounds off and it takes the German Captain a few moments in his current state to realise that this is actual worry, as he continues speaking: "Sergeant Williamson has returned with the expected supplies, but Lieutenant Taylor's group has not been in radio contact with O'Malley since noon and we have not been able to reach them until now. Private Lakatos is part of this team, so sending a search party tomorrow would be the best course of action."
The bad news suffice to shake Dietrich out of his hazy state for the moment. Pulling himself into a straighter stance, leaning less heavily on Sam Troy, he focuses his gaze on the Australian Captain who bears a graver expression than the German has ever seen on him. "In which direction were they headed?", Dietrich asks with concern. "Northwest", comes the prompt answer. "The Bedouin town lies to the north-northeast. I have to go there tomorrow, but either persuading them to ride to the northwest with us or let us search for our men first before heading for their town should be possible", the German Captain argues more coherently than before, but a slight slur and hint of an accent remain. "Sergeant Troy, make sure that Pettigrew and Gottschlich are ready to leave tomorrow morning! Captain Brown, can you lend us a few of your men including an experienced driver?" Brown nods in affirmation. "I'll send Williamson along with you. He knows his ways around in the desert and how to track a lost convoy." "Don't tell me about lost convoys...", the German mutters with clear frustration.
"Hey, Dietrich. I'd volunteer as well, if you'd have me", David Troy offers, hitting the German Captain on the right shoulder in a gesture of comraderie. A strangled yelp of pain ends quickly, as Dietrich's eyes roll back and he blacks out. "Brilliant, Davey!", Sam Troy growls in the tone of the older sibling scolding his unruly, idiotic teenage brother, while shifting his stance to catch the unconscious German Captain's weight. "I wasn't thinking...", his brother David stammers. "That much is obvious", Sam, Jack and Brown counter almost simultaneously with more or less the same wording. Jakob Silberblatt meanwhile checks his friend's pulse at the neck and Ari has returned to grabbing him around the midsection and listening to his heartbeat. That this sounds steady is the only reason keeping him from panicking right away. About half a minute later, Dietrich starts stirring again, groaning with pain. "You'd better take a step back, before he tears your head off with only his teeth", Moffit advises David Troy quietly. "I really thought only his arm was injured", the pilot whispers back. "Try to convince Dietrich, if he leaves you alive", the Brit suggest with irony. "He's actually quite reasonable, when he's not on the verge of collapsing from pain and fatigue." "Troy", the German growls with unconcealed fury regaining more of his coherence. "I've thought the Rats were the worst thing that could ever happen to any of my camps. You have truly disabused me of this notion." "I'm really sorry", David Troy starts out, only to find himself interrupted. "Spare me your whining and leave me in peace. The sooner you take off with that plane, the better!", Dietrich spits venomously, held up only by the pilot's brother. "Leave it, Davey! Neither of the two of us appreciates you getting on our nerves", Sam Troy growls at his younger brother with renewed aggression keeping a tight grip around the German leaning on him. "Come on, lad! Leave'em be", Captain Brown suggests and even leads David Troy to one side of the camp steering clear of the Rats' way.
"I owe you an apology, Sergeant Troy", Hans Dietrich surprises Sam Troy, although the German speaks with slight sarcasm. "I'd thought that you are the most annoying person in this desert. Your family never fails to teach me something new every day." "Repeat that one more time and you count as family friend", the American Sergeant counters with a grin. "Noone's said anything that friendly about us in years." "I suggest you stop talking Hans. Anything you say can and will be used against you", Jakob Silberblatt adds with a smile, eyeing his haggard looking friend with clear concern. "We'd better continue toward sickbay, get you your pain killers and then some good dinner and the world will look more brightly", Troy tries to sound jovial. "I'm not the six-year-old boy you can console with such fairy tales, Sergeant. No amount of drugs helps against the likes of you and your brother", comes the muttered reply. "Stop complaining and keep walking. Look at Jack, he's all cooperative", Troy counters. "Only because he has some Egyptian artefacts to study which he considers much more interesting than our interaction", the German growls, back lets himself be dragged along.
