Change of Ways

by The Ravenwolf

Set directly after the the events of the Rat Patrol's final episode, the story follows Dietrich's path into an unsteady future, joining his ways with the Rats and even less expected individuals. Reunions with former friends and foes included. (CHAPTER 1-14 revised!)

51. Morgenstund hat Gold im Mund

"Hans!", a voice calls the German officer sternly. When turning around, Dietrich looks into the brown eyes of his father, very similar to his own, as Oberst Karl Friedrich Dietrich scrutinises his son with an expression of disdain. "Du bist eine Schande für mich, unsere Familie, die gesamte deutsche Armee, der mein Vater und Großvater bereits treu gedient haben, im Unterschied zu dir verräterischem Abschaum", the older man snarls at his son angrily that he is a disgrace for him, their family, the German army his father and grandfather have already served loyally unlike his son whom he calls treacherous scum. The young officer winces at the words, as if he would have been struck. "Vater, ich habe die einzig mögliche Entscheidung getroffen, die nicht die Prinzipien von Anstand und Ehre mit Füßen getreten hätte, die du mir beigebracht hast", the younger Dietrich argues that he has made the only possible decision not violating the principles of honor and decency his father has taught him.

Without warning, Hans gets struck in the face for such an answer, a reaction he has expected and long since learned not to try and defend against, as this would only make his punishment worse. That his father grips his shoulder is unusual though, as the Oberst normally is very careful with preserving his dignity through appropriate distance. "Zum Verrat dazu kommt die Verbrüderung mit dem Feind auf die schlimmste Weise", the older Dietrich sputters lividly, as he accuses his son of the worst way of fraternising with the enemy in addition to treason. "Ein ordentlicher deutscher Offizier schließt keine Freundschaften mit gewöhnlichem Fußvolk und schon gar nicht mit Amerikanern", Karl Friedrich Dietrich continues his accusations, shaking his son's shoulder in the process, reminding him that befriending enlisted men is utterly inappropriate for a German officer, even more so is befriending Americans. "Ich dachte diese Flausen hätte ich dir nach dem letzten Mal ausgetrieben, Hans." Every muscle in Hans' body tenses, when his memories resurface of how his father has tried to beat such intolerable behaviour out of him the last time and his back and backside start hurting with phantom pain.

The shaking of his shoulder continues and gradually a different voice filters into his dream world. "Hey, Captain, wake up!", Sam Troy calls again, before switching his strategy and calling him "Hans!". That the thin young man flinches at the sound of his own given name, as if he would have been struck, takes the American Sergeant by surprise who is seriously starting to worry about his friend. From his intonation, Sam can tell that Dietrich is muttering quietly in German in his haunted sleep, but this reaction is strange and very unlike his last experiences with calling him by his first name which has usually calmed the tormented man. Blinking owlishly, the German officer finally draws himself out of his dream reality, wincing at the tight grip around his left shoulder and right wrist. "Troy", Hans finally manages to pronounce hoarsely and with clear concern written on his face, the American Sergeant releases his grip. "You got me really worried, when you started muttering in German and flinched at your own name", Sam Troy grumbles quietly. Dietrich averts his gaze and mutters: "Bad dreams. I'm sorry for waking you." "I was just about to leave for my new 'duty'", the American growls with clear annoyance, "when I heard you. Frankly, you look like you've been through hell, Captain." Dietrich frowns, but he can imagine well enough how accurate this description is. His shirt feels damp, drenched in cold sweat, his face looks still bruised and his whole attire is far from presentable. His father's voice criticising his unworthy appearance rings in his ears.

Troy holds out his hand and upon seeing the puzzled look on the younger man's face, he explains: "You need a decent shower, a shave and a friend to look after you." The German Captain cannot help wincing at the last part, as the memory of his dream is still lingering in his subconscious. Sam narrows his eyes, as he wants to know: "What's wrong?" Dietrich avoids meeting his gaze. "Showers are out of the question with the lack of water and the amount of men we have to take care of and get safely back to headquarters", the German officer mutters hoarsely, hoping that it will deter the American Sergeant. But Troy is nothing if not perceptive. "But you flinched at 'friend'", he points out, seeing the younger Captain tense involuntarily. "I was reminded rather vividly of how I was taught not to befriend the wrong people", Hans mutters quietly, ashamed of his own weakness, showing his reactions so clearly, unable to control himself. Sam Troy squeezes his friend's shoulder again, feeling his muscles tense under his grip, but still does not release him. "Has this something to do with your reluctance to call any of them your friend?", the American Sergeant grumbles his question and moves his head in the direction of Tully, Hitch and Moffit. The German Captain still does not meet his eyes, as he murmurs quietly: "Befriending enlisted men is inappropriate behaviour for a German officer, even more so is befriending Americans for ... someone like me, or at least it has been for many years." His only mercy is that saying the words in English is not triggering his memories as badly as the German words spoken in his father's voice have. "What happened that you take this so seriously?", Sam Troy inquires with a sharp tone, but there is more compassion laced into his voice than anger and this anger is not directed against his beaten looking friend.

Dietrich hesitates, whether to just send him off or share something. On the one hand Troy is more stubborn than the worst proverbial mule or donkey in his native tongue, on the other hand sharing some information might help to stop them from constantly nudging Hans about this topic which is starting to haunt him in his dreams along with his father, a most unsettling development. The American Sergeant is compassionate and empathetic, when he receives the right information and he holds enough sway over the rest of them to get them off his back. That is after all what a Captain has a loyal and experienced Sergeant for. "Swear to me that you will not share this with anyone, Troy!", Dietrich demands at which Troy looks bemused, but nods in agreement. "Okay, Captain. You have my word."

The American Sergeant is true to his word and reliable, of this Hans is sure. With a hoarse voice he starts his quiet explanation: "You remember the American desert adventurer working for my uncle and the German Egyptology society?" Troy nods and grins. How could he forget about a guy who has taught the teenage son of a German officer to haggle, perform riding stunts, pick locks and pockets, as well as English and Arabic? The young Captain's expression is grim however: "He betrayed us in the early 1930s and stole artefacts from our expedition, maybe even spied for the Americans. My uncle was accused of thievery or incompetence to protect the artefacts, but he started investigating and learned that the Yankee not only stole a few artefacts for money, but that he had done this systematically for a lot longer than a single year. When my father heard about my friendly relationship with the American spy and thief, he was livid and wanted to instill a lecture about not befriending such inappropriate people in a manner that I would never forget." Dietrich's voice catches in his throat and he is suddenly unsure how to continue.

The hand squeezing his shoulder makes him wince, but Sam Troy does not draw away or let him go. Instead he forces the younger man to meet his gaze. "How badly were you beaten?", he asks in a tone holding true compassion. Hans swallows hard. "Enough to lose consciousness at some point. It was the only time in my life that I recall my mother standing up for me and pleading with my father to stop, before I passed out." The German Captain's gaze shifts to Jakob Silberblatt's sleeping form. "I woke up on Bernhard Silberblatt's medical table, when he treated my sore back." Troy looks murderous, like he would like nothing more than to rip out the throat of the one who did this to his friend. "Why do you even miss such sorry excuses for a loving family?", the American Sergeant growls angrily. "They're the only family I have", Hans counters automatically. "Also you should not think that my father beat me regularly. Such disciplinary measures were only reserved for special misbehaviour." "Like being friends with the wrong people", Troy adds grimly. "How can you think that this justified for a kid and even love such a father?"

Dietrich flinches and averts his gaze. "My father and I have always had a complicated relationship", he admits hesitantly. "He served in the Great War as a cavalry officer and thus saw more of his men dying in horrific ways than most. Or would you charge on a horse against machine guns, knowing this means almost certain death?" They both know that the question is rhetorical. Sam Troy shakes his head nonetheless and the younger man continues: "My father is a brave man, but when he returned after the war, he wanted to train a soldier to survive the next such war which is why he treated me very differently than my sister. He couldn't love a soldier he expected to die sooner or later, neither could my mother, not in the same manner as they loved my sister." The accepting words in defense of his parents and their behaviour which is completely beyond Sam Troy's imagination hurt the American Sergeant unexpectedly.

The German Captain cannot even imagine a different behaviour from his family and would not resent them. His uncle and aunt as well as the Silberblatts have really been a great influence to form him into a compassionate and humane person which clearly his own parents cannot claim as an achievement. Realising Troy's stare focused on his face, the young officer wants to set one last thing straight: "Such extreme measures for ensuring discipline were only rarely necessary. I usually was well-behaved. The only other time it was that bad was when I got my only fine suit ripped in a fight against the Hitlerjugend who were terrorising Jakob and Sara, his sister." The German Captain's eyes wander to his friend's sleeping form, holding pain and sorrow. Nonetheless the young officer has taken great personal risks to save and protect his friend, while he has never stopped befriending the Jewish siblings, Troy realizes. So there is actual hope that he will overcome his instilled wariness and hold out his hand in friendship at some point, even to the others. "You're safe, you won't see your father again as you said yourself", the American Sergeant growls in a tone that holds anger at the German Oberst he does not even know, but also sympathy for his son. "You don't have to cling to this. But I got a better idea now why you're fighting against calling us friends so stubbornly."

Dietrich sighs with relief, wincing slightly again at the stinging pain in his cracked ribs. At least Troy is reacting in the manner he has expected him to. "I hope with better understanding comes the willingness to help me deal with the others and convince them to leave me be", the German Captain mutters quietly. Troy nods grimly, as he reassures the young man: "Don't worry! I'll help you. You're my friend after all and I appreciate that, now that I know what this has cost you to actually call me your friend." In the short run, they need to back down a little, if the Captain even gets haunted in his dreams by the confrontation. But in the long run, Sam still believes that helping him come to terms and befriending the rest of them is the best he can do for his tormented friend. Speaking with Silberblatt looks like a good starting point. The Jewish Lieutenant knows lots of things about Hans Dietrich which are not obvious.

"Take off your shirt!", the American orders, as he feels the damp fabric underneath his grip and the slight shiver running through the German's skinny frame. The young officer tenses immediately at the words which clearly do not match his expectations. "You're freezing enough that I can feel you trembling and your shirt's still damp", Troy scolds the lean Captain who looks a bit embarrassed, but starts unbuttoning his shirt. Seeing the bruises and scars along the younger man's torso still makes Troy angry at his tormentors and his own incompetence in protecting his friend properly. The scars from his own bullets fired at the German Captain remain as a reminder that this friendship is only the resolving part of their previously difficult relationship. If the young officer can find it in him to befriend his former enemy nonetheless, Troy has high hopes that he will do the same with the rest of them. But they need to treat him a tad more carefully, like a horse that has been treated badly in the past. Sam can be patient in such cases, well maybe for a few days at least.

Hans has not waited for the American to finish his musings. After yesterday's events, he is very diligent in putting on his own uniform shirt, carefully spreading out the damp one on his bed, before he will fold it again later, once it has dried. Since he is awake already, the young Captain decides to save time and join Troy on his way to the facilities to take care of washing off the worst of the sweat and grime, before visiting the sickbay. Although he is well practiced by now, his hopes are high that he can spare himself the effort of fully buttoning the shirt at 0510 in the morning. "Tully will be proud that you're adopting his style", Sam comments with a grin. "Buttoning it one-handed is a challenge I'd rather avoid repeating twice within 15 minutes", Dietrich replies dryly. "I'm surely going to dress properly after getting washed." "Just watch out that the higher up brass don't see you like that or they'll take you off duty. You look even thinner than you did before", Troy warns him with a smirk that turns serious. The proud Captain scowls immediately at those words and hisses in quiet annoyance: "I'm not at fault for this." Troy growls back: "Of course you aren't for being captured, beaten and starved. But you sure as hell are not taking enough of an effort to get your regular meals and eat some more of them than just what's absolutely necessary to keep you sustained, instead of giving half of it to your kids and dog." Dietrich looks taken aback at the fierce tone of the accusations and a bit uncomfortable at the truth behind them that he would rather not like to admit directly. "Eating your large portions is... too much for me. I've never indulged in gluttony in my life", Hans tries to argue. "That's obvious", Troy replies with a grin, as he walks alongside the thin German toward the building with the facilities the Germans have installed in the caravanserai.

As Hans has hoped, they are earlier than the rest of the camp and he can get undressed and washed peacefully without the rest of the officers bustling around or annoying him with comments and questions. "Morgenstund hat Gold im Mund", he mutters to himself. "What's that saying about gold?", Sam Troy wants to know. "It's basically praising the early riser for being able to earn more gold", the Kieler Captain translates rather freely. "I like the sound of it. Can you tell me that again?", Sam asks him curiously. As this is harmless enough and a good chance to improve the American Sergeant's language skills along with keeping him well entertained during his rather ugly penal duties, Dietrich complies quite willingly, while he gets undressed. Having Troy available to help him with unfastening his belt in addition is a great help. The American Sergeant starts with cleaning the wash basins in the meantime, before helping his injured friend with getting back into his clothes. Now that he is aware of what to look for, Sam Troy can even discern the fine lines of a few thin scars along the younger man's lower back. The lean officer ignores his scrutinising gaze after the comments on his eating habits, while focusing on his shaving. When the lean German Captain leaves the area, he is freshly washed and shaved as well as dressed properly in his own uniform shirt, buttoned up to the top.

Intending to walk back towards their tent, Hans suddenly tenses, when he hears the noise of shambling footsteps. Frowning, as these are not a soldier's footsteps he would expect to hear, the lean officer briefly evaluates what he should do, before opening the door of a small storage room, marked as 'Laggerraum' in German and swiftly dives inside. The shambling footsteps continue undisturbed in the same manner as before, indicating that whoever is approaching has not heard him. Dietrich leaves a small gap open, as he stands closely behind the door to observe and listen. When the British student Oliver Hendrick slowly comes into view, the Captain scowls with confusion. The young man appears to be coming from the direction of the formally taken over medical ward of the base which is not surprising given his necessity to receive regular check ups for his potential rabies infection. But that he is clutching something closely to his chest which looks like a whole medicine bottle is disturbing. The German officer mentally curses himself for not having thought of him earlier as a potential candidate for wishing to commit suicide for he recognizes the similarity to the sleeping pills Doctor Andrew's has shown him on the previous day. The Brits' avoidance of him and his unit has almost made him forget about this source of trouble, given all the things he has suffered through in the meantime. Now, Hans definitely has an obligation to not let the man wander off to do something regrettable, but to keep an eye on him.

The British student stops in the hallway and seems unsure how to proceed from here on, before noticing the slightly ajar door and starting to shamble toward it. Dietrich curses his bad luck, as he ducks behind several shelves, intending to remain undetected. A few seconds later the door opens quietly and the light from the hallway falls inside, but not far enough for Hendrick to notice the hidden Captain, as his gaze wanders around the room. Finally, he closes the door behind him, shutting out the light. From the rustling the German officer concludes that the Brit is sliding down along the door to sit in front of it, blocking out anyone trying to help him with his own body.

Although he cannot see anything in the almost complete darkness, Dietrich's sense of hearing is heightened by being his main manner of perception to rely on. Blindly, the German Captain moves his left hand to his belt to take a torch from one of the pouches. This has truly been among the most valuable things to adopt from the Rats, in particular Private Pettigrew. He forces himself to mentally apply the rank title instead of the first name, as his mind subconsciously connects 'Tully' with the man already. Dreaming of his father's reaction has sufficed to deter him from considering their inappropriate behaviour of familiarity and suggestions of friendship. The noise of a bottle being unscrewed and the small pills moving against the glass wall, as they are shaken out of it, is clear to recognize for the young officer. He has heard this sound in the medical practice of his uncle and Jakob's father countless times after all. Unwilling to hesitate any longer, he steps out from behind the shelf and lights his electric torch to shine at the Brit. "Mister Hendrick!", Hans Dietrich addresses the young man with a stern tone. Hendrick gives a shocked squeak in surprise and drops the bottle and most of the pills from his shaking hands. As his head snaps up, his eyes widen in shock, while he stares at the German Captain with the terrified expression of a deer caught in the headlights. Telling him to drop the pills has become obsolete, Hans realizes, as he swiftly adapts his strategy. "You're stealing medication from the sick and wounded", he states flatly, schooling his face into a neutral expression. Hendrick whimpers pitifully under the tall officer's stern gaze.

Cautiously, Dietrich takes each step closer, always watching for the Brit's reaction, but he still appears frozen in shock. Crouching in front of the young man no older than himself, the German Captain holds out his right hand, wincing as he moves it. "Give me the pills, Mister Hendrick!", the lean officer surprises the British student with his gentle tone and the compassion clearly visible in his brown eyes. Oliver Hendrick sobs: "Why do you care?" Actual torment flashes Dietrich's eyes, before he wrestles his emotions under control and speaks with a carefully controlled calm tone: "I have seen enough lives being snuffed out and taken enough lives myself to be able to value the life of a man and wish to preserve it, if I can." Tears run down the young Brit's face, as he looks the German Captain in the eyes, before he finally lets his head fall forward against the officer's left shoulder and the pills drop into his right hand. "I'm sorry", the young man whimpers between his sobs and Hans feels rather overwhelmed by the reaction he has not anticipated in this manner. "It's alright", he mutters awkwardly, unsure how to deal with the panicking and desperate Englishman who neither knows nor likes him. Dietrich's previous experiences with mental breakdowns have included Ari and Jakob, his ward and his best friend since childhood, who trust him indisputably. Some of his soldiers like Wolf Bauer have acted similarly in situations of extreme stress and agitation, suffering from battle fatigue or severe traumata, but they too have trusted him implicitly as their commanding officer. But dealing with the British student whose friend he has shot to save his life and who has threatened their nurse Deirdre O'Donnell to force them to kill him, is a real struggle for the German officer.

Speaking soothingly with the despondent young man for a few minutes and providing a calm and steady presence as well as a shoulder to cry on, helps to calm the Oxford student sufficiently for him to come to his senses, or at least enough to realize just how awkward and embarrassing the situation is. Blushing vividly, Hendrick starts muttering apologies repetitively which hardly feels like an improvement for the German Captain, except that the British scholar reacts to orders with more compliance than before. "Help me collect the pills, Mr. Hendrick! There are many who desperately need these medications", Dietrich orders with gentle strictness which appeals to the depressed man, providing him with a task to focus on. While Hendricks picks up every single pill and diligently brushes off the sand and dirt, the Captain holds the torch to provide him with some light and takes the time to study the other man. The Brit looks pale with dark rims under his eyes, speaking of many a sleepless night. His complexion looks rather ashen and overall the German Captain can assess that he appears to be far from healthy.

"Would you explain to me why you have acted the way you have, Mister Hendrick, or would you prefer to speak with Doctor Andrews or Professor Stevenson?", the German Captain finally inquires cautiously. "I'm starting to hear strange noises nobody else can hear and see things which aren't there", Hendrick confesses under new tears, not even considering the suggestion to speak with someone else. "I don't want to get looney like Jonathan and attack someone innocent. That's the best way to protect everyone." "You haven't slept much lately, Mr. Hendricks", Dietrich argues calmly. "Lack of sleep may also lead to such nonspecific symptoms." The Brit shivers pitifully. "Your sentiment to protect the others from such danger is noble", Hans tries to calm him, "but your means of doing so are less so. You will accompany me to the sickbay and we will arrange some quarantine and constant observation for you, if this makes you sleep more calmly, Mister Hendrick." Hendrick nods despondently. "I really appreciate that, Sir."

The German officer switches the torch to his injured right hand with a wince and holds out his left hand for the British student to help him stand up. After a few moments of hesitation Oliver Hendrick grasps the hand held out to him and gratefully lets the tall Captain help him to his feet. "The pills, Sir", the young Brit holds out the bottle with the medication, bearing a guilty expression. "Thank you, Mister Hendrick. Open the door, please", Dietrich still speaks with a carefully controlled tone. Once they have stepped outside of the small supply cabinet, Hans dares to breathe a sigh of relief that this situation had been resolved without casualties with the exception of his wrecked nerves. Now he can put the torch back into his pouch and carry the pill bottle with his injured hand to have his left hand free in case he needs it.

Together they arrive in the medical ward a few minutes later. Deirdre O'Donnell freezes, when she sees the two of them arriving together. Positioning herself to keep the German officer between her and her former perpetrator, the Irish stemming nurse asks with concern: "What has happened, Captain Dietrich?" "We need to speak with Doctor Andrews, Riggioli or Sommer", Hans replies calmly. "Doctor Sommer has just returned to the prison area to sleep, but Doctor Andrews should arrive at any moment", Deirdre answers him with a concerned tone. "What do you need from me, Captain Dietrich?", the American medic asks, as he enters behind the young Captain, having heard Deirdre's answer. "I ask for quarantine and close observation of Mister Hendrick here, as he is worried that he might be infected with rabies and wants to protect his fellow archaeologists", the German officer argues smoothly. Then, he holds out the pill bottle, wincing slightly in the process. "And I return this to you. You need not worry about the disappearance of medication from the responsible source in the near future", the young Captain adds his explanation, while meeting Hendrick's gaze steadily. The young British student looks utterly ashamed of himself, as he whimpers: "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to steal... I just wanted to protect everyone else from me." Doctor Andrews exchanges a worried gaze with Dietrich, as he puts his hand on the young Brit's shoulder and steers him toward a separate room, constantly murmuring quiet reassurances.

Deirdre O'Donnell appears slightly shocked, as she turns toward Dietrich: "My God. What has happened to him, Captain?" "He tried to kill himself with an overdose of sleeping pills", Hans replies with a stern, yet compassionate tone. "I stopped him and tried to calm and reassure him, when he broke down in panic." "Are you alright?", the nurse asks with concern, putting the skinny young man under scrutiny. "I'm physically unharmed by the incident", the German replies sternly, narrowing his eyes slightly. "But even you don't stop a man from taking his own life every day", she whispers with clear sympathy in her tone as well as some admiration. Hans sighs wearily. "No, I don't, fortunately." "You're a hero nonetheless", the Irish descended nurse insists with clear awe in her tone. The young Captain feels a bit uncomfortable with her adoration. "I only did my duty and acted as any decent man should", he responds coolly. "Looking after the British civilians isn't your duty as a U.S. army officer", Deirdre counters. "But I made the decision to rescue them from their digsite and they have thus become my responsibility, including all their actions. I am truly sorry for what happened to you at Mr. Hendrick's hands." "You don't have to apologize for saving people's lives. It's not your fault what he did", the blond nurse insists, even placing her hand on the tall officer's forearm which makes him tense immediately. "It's appropriate nonetheless", he mutters quietly.

Trying to change the topic to something more neutral Hans states: "We should also get my checkup behind me, Lieutenant, as I am expected to help Captain Boggs out after breakfast." Deirdre's expression turns slightly sad, but she goes along with his change of topic and directs him toward the officer's ward. David Troy still sleeps though not really peacefully, as he tosses and turns in his sleep, as far as he is able to with his bandages and burns. Major Bracken on the next cot snores loudly and Dietrich immediately remembers how much sleep the British officer has cost him in the past, when he has been forced to spend a night at sickbay in the officer's ward with the loudly breathing man. The German Captain takes a seat on a cot Deirdre points him to and starts the process of unbuttoning his shirt again, asking himself wearily why he even bothers with these. "How is your shoulder, Captain?", the nurse inquires, eyeing the dark bruises with concern. "I'm regaining some mobility, but it hurts considerably", Hans replies honestly, since he has decided that he will swallow his pride in admitting to the pain, which is obvious anyways, for the sake of regaining his main arm's mobility as quickly as possible.

Deirdre O'Donnell lays her right hand on the young officer's right shoulder to feel the muscles and sinews as well as potential cramps, while she gently directs the movement of his right arm with her left. From his tense muscles and gritted teeth alone she can conclude that he suffers from severe pain. Yet he never protests, while she performs her directed movements for two whole minutes. "It feels like the muscles and sinews are all intact and have remained unharmed during the events of the last days, Captain", Deirdre finally reassures him and Dietrich breathes a sigh of relief. "It feels like some cramps are forming though from malposition. I can perform a massage before we go through the exercises together, but not in a similar manner as before, as we cannot heat any stones here." "I understand", Dietrich mutters and quietly accepts his fate whatever it may decide for him.

The treatment is as painful as he has expected, but improvements in his mobility are finally noticeable. After ten minutes, Doctor Andrews returns to the main medical ward and joins Captain Dietrich and nurse O'Donnell. "You kept him from committing suicide, Captain", the American medic states sternly and the German officer merely nods in response. "How did you come across him in this situation?", Andrews wants to know. While Hans Dietrich explains what has happened, the American Doctor is putting the bruised young man under scrutiny. "You're my favourite officer in camp for being perceptive, smart and compassionate, Captain", Doctor Andrews finally states. "But I would be more relaxed to see you not risking your own life and health over everybody else's." The German Captain's muscles tense visibly, as he adopts a defensive stance. "Before you start an angry discussion, Captain", the medic stops the proud young officer, "I can see that you are improving your efforts of recovering your health. But without gaining at least twenty pounds, you will not be safe from detrimental effects of undernourishment." Hans has narrowed his eyes warily, as he growls: "The events of the past days that have kept me from recovering have not been my fault or intention."

"Doc, we got an emergency!", a British soldier calls, while running into the medical ward, effectively interrupting their discussion. Hans Dietrich is equally fast on his feet as the medical Doctor, following close behind him. "What has happened?", the medic already asks, while the German Captain takes position beside him. The young soldier stares at the bruised officer who has not had the time to redress his shirt. Noticing the indignant stares of both men, the young Brit swallows and explains nervously: "Someone stabbed the guards at the gates, Sir. There's blood all over. You need to look at this." Dietrich's expression turns grim, as he growls: "Was the gate open and were any tracks visible in the sand, Private?" The British soldier blushes, chagrined to not even have thought of this. "I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't check." With a scowl, the German Captain states grimly: "I'll come with you." "After getting into your shirt I hope", Andrew's adds with a lopsided smile. "Ideally your own one." Dietrich glares at him, as he growls: "Changing shirts has already caused enough trouble." Deirdre O'Donnell has caught up with him in the meantime and helps the lean officer into his shirt, while Doctor Andrews fetches his medical bag for the treatment of the guards, should they have survived.

Then both the German Captain and the American medic follow the British soldier to the main gate, where already several soldiers are standing, summoned by his alarm. Dietrich curses his bad luck inwardly, since they have likely destroyed any evidences remaining. "Is any of the two still alive?", Hans inquires, as their men's survival is nonetheless his first concern when approaching them. "I don't think so, Captain", Private Ripley replies with a sad tone, while his comrade, the Texan Private Walker, snarls angrily: "Damned murderers. We'll catch that backstabbing scum." "Calm yourselves, gentlemen!", Dietrich orders sternly. "We need to act with reason to not endanger our unit. This could be a flight attempt or a ruse to lure us out there. Has anyone of you checked for a vehicle's tracks leading outside?" They all bear sheepish expressions, not daring to meet his eyes. "We didn't check. We went to our comrades", Ripley admits with a guilty tone. Sighing warily, the German Captain orders: "I will check the gate. Stand back to not destroy any tracks!"

The gate is indeed unlocked and moving, as soon as he pushes against it. Taking a step outside cautiously, Hans Dietrich realizes that he is standing on the only tracks leading outside, while checking to his left and right reveals nothing. This explains why nobody has noticed or heard anything earlier, the young officer realizes. No motor has been started to move any vehicle. After getting rid of the gate guards, someone has pushed a motorcycle outside without starting the motor before having enough distance to the caravanseray to not be noticed. The German Captain has to admit that this is a smart maneuver which has covered the disappearance for hours possibly. Turning back inside, the German Captain orders grimly: "Inform Major Turner and Captain Boggs that someone has fled from the perimeter on a motorcycle! Doctor Andrews, is any of them still alive?" The American medic shakes his head with a sad expression. Dietrich grits his teeth, only slightly relieved that Private Umbridge and Lancing have been spared, because someone else has taken the night shift after them. "Also report the death of both guards. Now!", he snaps his order and two of the men scurry off in haste. "The rest of you prepare vehicles for the chase! You go to my tent and summon the Rats, Private Walker!" This scatters the others as well.

Crouching next to the medic, Hans takes a closer look at the dead guards, one Brit and one American, but not from Boggs' unit, as he does not recognize him. The young British soldier's death is obvious, as his throat has been cut from behind, while the American's injuries have only been revealed by rolling him on the stomach. The three stab wounds in his back, aimed clearly for the lungs and heart are precise and have been deadly. "This was the work of an expert", Dietrich assesses mirthlessly. "I agree", Doctor Andrews replies with a hollow tone. "We'll chase the man as quickly as possible", the young officer replies sternly. "A motorcycle is fast, but has limited reach without additional gasoline and is much more dangerous to maneuver in the slippery dunes than a Jeep with four wheels."

Along with a half-dressed Captain Boggs who still shrugs into his jacket and buttons his shirt to the top, arrives Sam Troy. "What's happened, Captain?", the American Sergeant beats the other Captain to the question, as Boggs glares at him. "Two guards were killed in the night, while somebody took off with a motorcycle. I only found a single track and that is the only vehicle which can be pushed outside without starting the motor, before being out of earshot." Troy starts cursing, while Boggs looks shocked, as he asks: "Who fled?" The German officer replies with dark sarcasm: "I have no idea, as I don't indulge in clairvoyance. But you will have to check the prisoners as well as give a roll call for all of our own soldiers in case we still missed an infiltrator. Interrogate Hauptmann Stadler whether all men of his base have been registered as POWs or somebody is still unaccounted for. This was the professional work of a commando trooper, three precise stabs in both lungs and the heart, as well as a single cut through the throat from behind. I'm very familiar with such work." The last words hold a grim tone, as Dietrich looks up to meet Troy's gaze with a serious expression of his own. "It wasn't us", the American Sergeant grumbles in annoyance. "This time not", Hans states darkly. "We will hunt whoever has done this now, Troy."

Sam Troy nods in grim agreement. "Sure thing, Captain." Boggs stares at his younger colleague incredulously. "You want to participate in the chase yourself?" Dietrich smirks. "If I have learned one thing really well from your countless attacks against my camps, gentlemen, it is that I can never rely on my men to act competently and reasonably without my presence." "We're competent", Troy protests. "I don't doubt your competence, Sergeant", the German Captain counters dryly. "But don't even try to argue that you act reasonably more than half of the time." "Jerry smartass", Sam grumbles, but holds out his hand to haul the young officer back to his feet. "I'm still glad to have a skilled negotiator with language skills competing with Moffit's along."

"Hey, Cap. What's happened?", Tully Pettigrew inquires a bit sleepily after having been dragged out of bed by the soldier Dietrich has sent for summoning the Rats. Jack Moffit follows close behind him, fastening his belt and buttoning his jacket. Even Mark Hitchcock has come along as well as the two Corporals who all look bleary eyed. "Two guards were killed and someone fled with a motorcycle. We will start the chase now. Your comrades should have prepared the Jeeps already. Pettigrew, Gottschlich, you're driving." While the two drivers run off, followed by Corporal Turner, Moffit addresses the German officer with dry humor: "I have always suspected that you never sleep and have eyes in the back of your head, Captain. How did you get involved in this so quickly though?" Dietrich exchanges a glance with Doctor Andrews, before replying cautiously: "I happened to be in the medical ward, when a soldier reported the emergency at the gates." The American medic nods, but comments with a scowl: "You've barely finished your checkup and therapy after dropping the British archaeologist." Moffit, Troy, Hitchcock and Boggs look equally perplexed. "What did the heathen cultists do?", Sam snarls lividly. "Troy!", Moffit and Dietrich both snap with the same unnerved tone, before staring at each other slightly surprised, while Hitch grins with amusement at their reaction. "What has happened?", James Boggs wants to know, ignoring Troy's comments and behaviour. "Oliver Hendrick, the man who was bitten by the rabid student I shot, tried to kill himself with an overdose of sleeping pills", Hans explains sternly. Boggs gapes at him incredulously, while Troy growls: "I let you out of my sight for a few minutes and you get involved with the British scum?" "Troy, don't you dare call the students of the noble university college of Oxford scum!", Jack Moffit protests indignantly. "I came across him by accident and he was lucky that I did or we would not have been able to save him in time", Dietrich counters with a serious expression, trying to interrupt the encroaching debate before developing a headache for which Boggs eyes him gratefully in addition to his actual achievements of saving a man's life. Both Captains glare at the two Sergeants who annoy them beyond measure.

"Hey, Cap. We're ready!", Tully shouts, as he stops his Jeep, followed by Gottschlich in the other Jeep. "Let's shake it!", Troy barks and climbs into the back behind Gotty, glaring at Corporal Turner in the front seat. "Captain Dietrich", Boggs stops his young second in command who turns back around with a surprised and slightly wary gaze. "Take that!", the older Captain orders and takes off his own jacket to hold it out to the tall German who looks astonished at the American officer and the offered piece of clothing. "I won't let you drive out with only a shirt at little above freezing temperature", Boggs argues with a serious tone and concern for the lean young man visible in his expression. With a wry smile, the older American Captain adds: "This at least is of the correct army and appropriate rank." Although hesitating for a moment longer to swallow his pride, Hans Dietrich finally takes the held out jacket, as he has to admit that he will likely freeze otherwise during their drive. "I got a second helmet for you, Cap", Tully offers from the Jeep, stopping the motor to get the piece of equipment, while James Boggs helps his lean colleague into the jacket which looks slightly too short at the sleeves, but is far too baggy on the thin German officer who mutters a quiet "Thank you" only for the American Captain to hear. Tully Pettigrew hands their German CO the helmet who puts it on without hesitation. After all, this piece of equipment has saved his life once already. James Boggs has to admit that he would never have considered the young German Captain anything but an American, given how naturally he carries himself in his current uniform and speaks their language, if he would not have been introduced to the tall Wehrmacht Hauptmann by his name Hans Dietrich which is the only thing unmistakably German about him.

The younger Captain takes his seat next to the Kentucky driver who nods at him grimly, before turning his gaze back to the gate in front of him which is opened up for them on Boggs' command. Then, he starts the Jeep's motor again and waits for the soldiers to step aside and carry away the bodies of their dead comrades. Corporal Turner sits beside Riku Gottschlich in the other vehicle much to Troy's dismay who would definitely prefer the German Captain over the nephew of his current nemesis, Major Turner. "Even Troy couldn't argue that we need your keen eyesight more in the front Jeep", Jack Moffit offers as an explanation for their change of seats. The young officer nods in agreement and replies dryly: "That is undoubtedly most reasonable. Let's just hope Troy leaves Corporal Turner alive for a single ride or he will spend even more hours with amusing penal duties Major Turner can find for him." The British Sergeant smiles wryly and even Tully's lips twitch around his obligatory matchstick. "You're a pessimist, old chap", Jack mutters quietly, patting the younger man's shoulder a few times from behind who tenses involuntarily at the touch. "But your realism and logic are indisputable", the British Sergeant adds dryly, as he casts a doubtful look in Troy's direction.

Finally, the gate has opened far enough for Tully to be able to drive outside. Thus, Moffit takes his safe seat in the back, while Dietrich rises in his front seat to get a better view over the windscreen. "The track leads to the northeast", the German Captain analyses loudly and points his driver in the direction who nods quietly and starts driving at a higher speed which forces the young officer to sit down again. Troy barks "Let's shake it!", in the second Jeep and Gotty starts driving in a well-trained manner. James Boggs looks after his leaving patrol, thoughtfully musing about what he has observed with curiosity during the interaction between the Rats and their adopted German Fox. Dietrich is undoubtedly a respected member of the unit, more so than Corporal Turner who Troy has eyed as if he would wish to murder him, the same reaction the American Captain knows from his Sergeant from every new man he has ever placed with him. In this sequence, the young German officer has been the only notable exception, as Troy has chosen him for his unit and not the other way around.

For someone who has suffered as much from the commando troopers' attacks as Hans Dietrich indisputably has, the former Wehrmacht Hauptmann is working incredibly well with said commando soldiers. They all hold a personal respect and even liking for each other which they do not hide. Mark Hitchcock, the injured Private who has had to stay behind with Boggs has eyed the German Captain even with a mixture of adoration and clear sympathy, which Captain Boggs would never have expected from the superficial rowdy. "Gotta take care of Cap's kids", Hitch mutters as an explanation, once he remembers his obligations. "See you, Captain Boggs." Without a proper salute or any other words, the young man rushes off again. How the properly behaved, well-bred German military officer manages to tolerate the impossible behaviour of the two Privates still remains a mystery to Boggs. Even he gets annoyed by their lack of proper formality rather frequently. But it must somehow work, as Dietrich and Pettigrew have just interacted in front of him with mutual respect and well-practiced coordination, something Boggs has only seen Troy manage with the Kentucky convict, while the rest of his officers have been on the warpath against him and his mischief. Hoping that Dietrich and his Rats will be successful in their chase, Boggs turns around to the arriving Major Turner who stares at the bodies of the dead soldiers with incredulity and starts to inquire about what has happened.

During their ride, the German Captain observes the tracks in front of them, the dunes around them and the sky above them with constant vigilance. "Pettigrew, stop!", he calls out at some point, when noticing movement in the air. At the same time he provides the arm signal to stop for the Kentucky driver as well as the other Jeep. Tully drives halfway up a dune, before halting with Gotty stopping close behind him. "Troy, I need the binoculars!", Hans shouts and the American Sergeant digs them out of his chest, jumps down from the back and runs over to hand them to the Captain. "What do you see, Hawkeye?", Troy wants to know without even leaving the German officer the time to adapt the settings. "Patience is a virtue which will forever elude you, Troy, if you continue like this", Dietrich mutters sarcastically, while searching the sky. "Vultures are circling a few miles ahead." "You think that it could be the man we chase, Captain?", Moffit inquires politely, before Troy can start a debate with the German officer. Hans shrugs and winces at the gesture hurting his injured shoulder. "It could be or it could be anything else out here in the desert, Doctor." "We'll only know once we've checked", Troy growls and adds impatiently: "We will check it out, won't we?" Dietrich nods grimly. "We follow the tracks. If they lead us close enough, we will check this out." Tully nods, accepting this as his next orders, while Troy climbs back into the back of his Jeep and shouts: "Let's shake it!" "Yankees", Dietrich mutters quietly after a wary sigh. "Don't expect them to change, Captain!", Jack Moffit adds with a fatalistic tone.

The lean German Captain closely watches the sand in front of the Jeep, as well as the sky with even more diligence than before, having kept the binoculars around his neck. Dietrich signs to Tully Pettigrew to stop, as he can spot something at a dune closeby and the Kentuckian Private steers their Jeep to the side just in time to barely evade a bullet, flying by their heads. Riku Gottschlich almost turns over the Jeep, when he tears the steering wheel around and Troy's curse can be heard loud and clear in the whole area. Dietrich draws his handgun, but Jack Moffit beats him with manning the Browning machine gun and firing at the dune where the German Captain is pointing his gun. Troy's Browning joins a few seconds later. They cannot hear a cry of pain, but a body rolling down the hill drenched in blood indicates their success. Hans Dietrich is the fastest to get out of the Jeep, dodge next to it and then start up the dune to check on the dead man. Even without turning him over, it is obvious that he is dead and not wearing any uniform of one of the major factions, but civilian clothes. Troy and Moffit secure the area with their Browning guns, while the two drivers remain ready to drive off at any time. Trusting his men to cover his back, the German Captain moves up the dune crouching low, as Corporal Turner comes after him.

When Dietrich notices movement above him atop the dune, he shoots without hesitation. After his first shot, Moffit and Troy join him as well in firing another salve at the dune top. A cry of pain which ends abruptly, indicates their success. "Maudit Boche!", they hear a pained male voice curse them as damned Germans. "Nous sommes Américains", Hans shouts back immediately that they are Americans, although he is aware that he is the only one for whom the curse is originally intended. "Pourquoi parlez-vous français alors?", the man shouts back, sounding confused why the American speaks French. "Je l'ai appris à l'école", the German replies with honesty that he has learned it in school. "Arrêtez de tirer! Nous ne voulons pas vous faire de mal, si vous êtes de la France libre", the German calls out that the other should stop shooting, as they do not want to harm him, if he is from the free France. Moffit meanwhile translates the spoken phrases to a grim looking Sam Troy and the others to inform them on the negotiations. The resistance fighter hesitates for a few moments, but hearing the English translation finally convinces him that he is indeed dealing with Allied soldiers and not the Axis ones. "Je vais jeter mon fusil. Ne tire pas!", the man shouts with a pained tone. "Don't shoot! He will throw out his rifle and is asking us not to fire", Dietrich calls out to his men who nod grimly.

"Lancez votre arme! Nous ne tirerons pas", the German then calls back to the man to throw his weapon, promising that they will not shoot. A few seconds later the gun lands in the sand a few meters above him. "Keep your gun ready, as we storm over the top and check the situation. It could still be a trap", the Captain mutters to the Corporal close behind him. Eric Turner looks nervous, but nods his acknowledgement. At the lean officer's sign he jumps to his feet and tries to scale the dune to get over the top as quickly as possible, although he stands no chance to move as fast as the desert veteran with two years of experience in this type of terrain. As Hans jumps over the dune top, he comes face to face with a heavily bleeding young Frenchman and a second man with black skin who clutches his midsection and has blood seeping from a large wound. "Levez la main!", Hans Dietrich orders them to raise their hands. "Nous traiterons vos plaies." The promise that they will treat their wounds sounds convincing enough for the Frenchman to comply, while his African comrade merely groans in pain and keeps clutching his body.

"Moffit, Troy, stay alert at the guns! Pettigrew, come with the First Aid kit!", the German Captain calls to his soldiers, as Corporal Turner finally joins him. "Keep them covered, Corporal!" While the young American acknowledges his order, Dietrich stows away his gun in his holster and crouches next to the two injured French resistance fighters. "Quels sont vos noms?", he inquires, trying to instill some trust in the men and calm them. Nothing is more dangerous than an injured, panicked man fighting for his naked life. The two appear surprised to be asked about their names, but the Frenchman finally replies: "Je suis Christian Moulin et il est Louis Marchand." The lean officer nods in acknowledgement. "Bon. Parlez-vous anglais ou au moins comprenez-vous la langue?" His question whether they speak or at least understand English is answered differently by the two men. While the African, Louis Marchand, shakes his head in the negative, the Frenchman, Christian Moulin, nods a bit timidly. "Oui. Je comprends un peu l'anglais. I understand little English." Turner looks quite relieved to finally understand a few words even though he has to struggle with the heavy accent.

Tully reaches them, when Dietrich starts his calm persuasion to let him check the men's injury. "Hey, Cap. I got the First Aid kit", the Private announces and sees the German officer nod without turning around to look at him. "Help the man, Pettigrew!", Dietrich orders, pointing at the Frenchman. "He understands some English. I will look after his comrade who only understands French." Tully eyes the African warily, while the German kneels next to the man and speaks quietly with him in a soothing tone, until he stops clutching his injury and lets the young officer check the wound. "Turner, I need your help", Hans calls the American Corporal. "I need to guard them, Captain", the young soldier replies grimly, eyeing the dark skinned man with clear distrust. "This man is more dead than alive and unable to harm anybody in his state. And I assure you that Private Pettigrew has his patient well under control." Tully smiles wryly and nods. "Sure, Cap."

Reluctantly, Eric Turner joins the German Captain next to their patient's side, as Hans mutters quietly: "Louis, nous soignerons vos blessures. Ne nous attaquez pas!" The injured man grits his teeth, trying to suppress a groan of pain, as he nods his head to indicate his understanding. "What did you tell him, Captain?", the Corporal asks with a worried tone. "I told him that we will treat his injuries and he should not attack us", Dietrich replies calmly. Turner eyes the injured African even more warily and draws his combat knife. The German Captain scowls, but allows this, as they might actually need the knife to aid in wound treatment and being ready to defend themselves is not a bad idea, even though he resents the distrust based on obvious prejudice.

"I'm not sure if we can actually help him", the lean officer assesses with clear concern in his tone. "The wound looks too big to sit well with me. These .50 caliber bullets tear through a human body with ease and leave little intact." Turner looks shocked and a bit horrified, as he eyes the dying resistance fighter a bit differently from before, while muttering: "What can we do, Captain?" "Not leave him to die alone. That's the least respect and human decency we can show a fighter against a common enemy and any human being", Hans Dietrich argues quietly. "Quel est tu nom?", Louis asks between clenched jaws. "Jean Thierry", the German replies after a few moments of hesitation, translating his name to French, as he has learned it in his French lessons. What has been a matter of fun back then is dead serious now. Under no circumstances can he utter a German name in front of the two French resistance fighters, unless he wants to let this situation escalate again. In this manner, Hans Dietrich is not lying, merely translating his own name to their language.

"S'il te plaît, prie avec moi, Jean", Louis pleads between a groan and a whimper. "Bien sûr, Louis", Hans assures the dying man cautiously that he will of course pray with him, even though he feels a bit nervous and uncomfortable. Since leaving Paris, the young German has not spoken a French prayer. But Amelie has repeated the Lord's prayer at his bedside every evening for a whole month during his recovery which has sufficed to deeply ingrain the words in his memories. "Notre Père", the German starts out with a hoarse voice, as his past in the form of images of his dead fiance haunts him along with the present situation. "... qui es aux cieux", Louis joins him fervently, trying to fold his hands into a gesture of prayer. "Que ton nom soit sanctifié, que ton règne vienne, que ta volonté soit faite sur la terre comme au ciel. Amen." Hans Dietrich speaks the last words alone, as the other man's voice has faded along with his life. With a tormented expression the German Captain makes the sign of the cross after that and bows his head to the dead man in a last show of respect. Then, he turns his gaze back to the pained looking Frenchman and asks quietly: "Avez-vous des plaques d'identité ou toute autre forme d'identification?"

After staring at him for a few moments without comprehension, Christian Moulin shakes his head. "No, Jean. Nous sommes des résistants, pas des soldats." Dietrich nods in understanding. They are not soldiers, merely civilians putting up resistance against the invaders of their homeland. Therefore, they have no dog tags or other means of identification of a dead man. "Nous l'enterrerons, mais le traitement de vos blessures est prioritaire", he assures the Frenchman that will bury his comrades, but treating his own injuries takes priority. "Merci. Vous êtes un homme bon", Christian assures him that he is grateful to the young officer he considers a good man. Hans averts his gaze, unable to bear lying him in the face, as he argues that he merely does what any honorable man should do. "Je fais simplement ce que tout homme honorable devrait faire."

"Aucun Boche ne ferait cela", the Frenchman spits with disdain that no German would do this. Dietrich swallows hard, fighting his anger at the slight against his homeland and people, but replying in a controlled tone: "Vous avez tort. Je suis allemand." The resistance fighter looks completely incredulous, when the young officer argues that he is wrong, as he is a German himself. "Vous êtes américain!?", Christian Moulin repeats in confusion that he is an American. "Je suis un officier de l'armée américaine, mais je suis né en Allemagne", Dietrich argues stubbornly that he is a U.S. army officer, but has been born in Germany. "Alors vous êtes l'un des bons garçons", the Frenchman replies with relief that he is one of the good boys then. Blinking with actual surprise, the Captain stops himself from continuing this useless argument and instead provides a concise summary of all the relevant spoken content for Pettigrew and Turner, before sending the Corporal off to summon Gottschlich and start digging a grave for the dead men.

Taking their Thompson guns, Troy and Moffit finally join them as well, while Tully treats the French resistance fighter, receiving only curt precise instructions from the German officer from time to time, while he continues speaking with the Frenchman. "Avez-vous vu un homme à moto au cours des dernières heures?" Christian Moulin blinks in confusion to be asked about whether they have seen a man on a motorcycle in the last hours. Finally, the Frenchman nods: "Nous avons abattu un homme à moto qui venait du fort allemand." "Can't you speak in some understandable language? That's worse than German?", Troy complains without even waiting for Moffit's translation. Dietrich scowls at him and remarks a tad sharply: "I would rather assure that we suffer no further misunderstandings, Sergeant Troy! He said that they shot a man on a motorcycle coming from the German fort and I want to know where exactly and what they did to him in order to identify the man who killed our gate guards." "I 'ear all, but compre'end not all", the Frenchman adds in English with such a heavy accent that Sam Troy only realizes after a few seconds that this has been English and not French. "Just speak with him in this fancy French, Captain! I can't even understand his English." Moulin looks slightly hurt, while Dietrich smirks and counters with clear sarcasm: "Your wish is my command, Troy." "Jerry smartass", the American grumbles.

Meanwhile, Jack Moffit joins his young commanding officer in speaking with the French resistance fighter. "Nous avons enterré le corps et la moto dans le sable, à quelques kilomètres à l'est d'ici", the Frenchman explains and Moffit immediately translates for the impatient Troy. "They buried the body and the motorcycle in the sand, a few kilometers to the east of here." "L'homme portait-il un uniforme allemand ou américain?", Dietrich inquires with interest whether the man has worn a German or American uniform. Moulin merely shrugs, as he admits sheepishly: "Je ne connais pas la différence. Il a un uniforme et venait d'un fort allemand, alors nous pensions qu'il était allemand." Jack Moffit starts scolding the Frenchman with a grim expression, while Hans translates more calmly for Troy: "They don't even know the difference between the uniforms. He had a uniform and came from a German fort, so they assumed he had to be German."

"Idiots", Troy swears loudly. "They would've shot us as well because of that, even though we fight on the same side." "Resistance fighters", Dietrich growls with annoyance. "They want to fight against their oppressors, but have no idea who they fight and how to do this properly. They're usually more brave than smart and get themselves and their allies killed far too easily. You got lucky with some of your allies in the past, but things can also work differently." Troy nods grimly, as he squeezes the younger man's shoulder with some sympathy: "That girl and her Dad definitely were more brave than smart. But it was a noble gesture to leave her that Jerry medal for bravery for her father, Captain." The lean officer nods with a haunted gaze, as he mutters: "I learned not to underestimate such sources of trouble and resistance for the future." "Yeah. And now you work with them and help them even, Captain", Troy replies with a grin, pointing at the Frenchman who cowers in front of an angry Jack Moffit. "One of these days I gotta tell you the story of the drama about Jack's French girlfriend." "Troy!", the British Sergeant protests indignantly, having detected his name, before returning to his tirade to show the young Frenchman the error of his ways and deter him from continuing in such a manner, attacking his allies indistinct of his enemies.

"Captain, we're ready with the first grave", Corporal Turner reports. "Should we bury the black guy separately?" Dietrich looks baffled by the question. "No, why should you? They fought together. They can be buried together", the German replies coolly. Looking nervously at Sam Troy, the American Corporal asks sheepishly: "May I ask you a question, Sir?" The German Captain nods, raising his eyebrows in a questioning manner, as he awaits the young man to spit out what is bothering him. "Alone?", the American Corporal adds with a desperate tone. Sighing wearily, Hans considers him for a moment, before nodding and ordering: "You keep an eye on Monsieur Moulin, gentlemen!" Then, he takes a few steps to the side offering an inviting hand gesture to Eric Turner to precede him. "What do you want from me, Corporal Turner?", the German officer inquires with narrowed eyes, observing the American with curiosity and confusion. Turner looks quite torn and unsure how to address this, before starting straight out: "I can't bury that black guy next to the white one. It's not... right."

Hans Dietrich looks astonished, before answering in stern calmness: "They're French resistance fighters who fought side by side. France libre is even located nowadays in Central Africa, Corporal Turner. I understand your reservations, coming from Germany myself, but I don't approve of them. We will bury these men together!" His tone has gotten a steely edge that makes the young American soldier tense. "Why do you treat him like that? You prayed with him and treated him just like one of us", Turner sounds quite agitated, as he struggles with his ingrained beliefs. "Corporal Turner, I hail from a country where my best friend was constantly harassed during our whole schooltime and later on threatened to be sent to a prison camp, not for any crime he has committed, but being born into a Jewish rather than a Christian family. I have learned to not take prejudice for granted", the German officer argues wearily. "But he's black, an African", Turner counters incredulously. "That only means that he has more right to be buried in these North African sands than any of us, since we're all foreigners here, including the French", Dietrich argues coolly.

Noticing Turner's remaining struggle, the German Captain continues with an insistent tone: "I will tell you a personal story of my past to make you see why I stand by this opinion so vehemently, Corporal Turner. When I was a teenage boy, I spent two months every summer in North Africa, accompanying expeditions which my uncle led for the German Egyptology Society. In my first summer in North Africa, a South Egyptian Nubian boy, even more black than Louis Marchand, followed me for some reason, tracking me everywhere, until I became scared and told my older cousins who beat him up to defend me. When I spoke with the boy afterwards, he told me that he was supposed to look after me and protect me from troubles on my uncle's orders. I regretted that I had distrusted him based only on prejudice and the colour of his skin, even apologised to him. I still remember that he could barely believe that a white boy would apologise to a black one." The tall officer stares ahead with a thousand yards gaze, as he relays his story, while Eric Turner gapes at him incredulously. Dietrich's tone gets more firm, as he declares: "Back then, I vowed not to simply let appearances fool me and get an impression of the person, before judging them and it has served me well, in particular when dealing with my former enemies who are now my allies, Corporal. I honestly advise you to not judge people by appearance, heritage and colour of skin alone."

Eric Turner has turned bright red from blushing and finds himself unable to meet the young German Captain's gaze. "I don't know what to say", he mutters a bit hoarsely, starkly reminded that the bruised skinny man in front of him could hold actual prejudices against him and his men, but appears honestly open minded and appreciative of the second chance he has been given as a German among Americans. A pang of guilt hits Turner, when he looks at the second Corporal, Riku Gottschlich, whom he has avoided to talk to directly due to his Japanese appearance. The young soldier obviously admires the German Captain for a good reason, as Eric cannot remember ever having noticed Dietrich treating him differently from the rest of them. Finally, Turner looks up again to meet his young commanding officer's gaze. "Thank you, Captain. I ... really appreciate your advice." Hans Dietrich who has waited patiently for the young American's reaction nods in quiet acceptance. "I'm honoured to provide valuable advice, Corporal Turner. Heed my warnings, if you can!"

Troy has observed the interaction between the German officer and the American Corporal warily from a distance. What does the Turner whelp want from their Captain? Dietrich scowls and speaks with a serious expression, while the kid looks a bit like a beaten dog by the time he turns back to meet Gotty again who has watched the conversation between his fellow Corporal and his commanding officer with apprehension. As soon as Turner has left, Sam Troy approaches Hans Dietrich who sighs wearily: "What is it, Troy?" "What was that about?", the American Sergeant wants to know. "That is confidential, Sergeant", the German Captain insists coolly. Sam Troy stares at his younger friend, as he grumbles incredulously: "Confidential?" "Yes, Troy", Dietrich argues. "Although it might be an alien concept to you, given that you consider other people's privacy non-existent, 'confidential' means that I will not share what I have been entrusted with as a personal adviser, just as little as I would share anything about what you have told me, asking me not to share it." Sam Troy looks intently at the lean officer, weighing his words, before taking the German completely by surprise, when he starts patting Hans' shoulder and mutters: "You're a good guy through and through, Captain."

"The funny thing is that nowadays I need one of you know-it-alls to translate for the other", Troy grumbles with some amusement, as he looks at Jack still scolding the young Frenchman. "Not everybody in the world speaks English, Sergeant", Dietrich counters. "You're definitely the more harmless guy than Moffit", the American Sergeant adds with a grin, seeing Moulin's pained expression. "I always knew that he is the most dangerous member of your unit", Hans mutters with a scowl. "He's more cold-blooded than you, Troy." "And more cold-blooded than you, Captain. And it's your unit, not mine", Troy holds against him. "That's true nowadays", the lean German admits. "I still think Moffit is the most dangerous of all of us." "And here I thought you're on the verge of becoming friends", the American Sergeant grumbles, bearing an accusatory expression as he looks from Dietrich to Moffit. "Haven't we discussed this morning that befriending them is a serious problem for me?", the German asks sharply. "You said befriending enlisted men and Americans is a problem. Jack's a volunteer and as English as they come", Troy argues with a grin. "Don't try to annoy me more than necessary, Troy!", the Captain snaps in annoyance. "Okay. I get it that you don't feel at home being friends with them. But I tell you you'd be better off to just accept that", the American Sergeant holds against him at which the German officer merely shakes his head in denial.

"As soon as we have patched up the Frenchman and buried the others, we leave for where they shot our motorcyclist", Dietrich declares more coolly than he actually perceives his own emotions, changing the topic that makes him feel awkward. The skinny German Captain starts walking toward the graves without waiting for an answer while Troy follows closely at his heels. Turner and Gottschlich look up at their commanding officer who nods to them before kneeling next to the dead bodies and starting to search through their pockets. Within twenty seconds Hans comes across a portmonnaie in the pocket of the dead man they have shot first and whom he considers their main sharpshooter. Turner and Gottschlich might be rather incompetent as investigators, but they are too honest to be looters which Dietrich counts to their advantage. "Qu'est-ce que vous faites?", their last remaining Frenchman calls over indignantly, as he wants to know what the officer is doing.

"J'essaie de savoir s'il a l'adresse d'une famille à renseigner sur lui. Le port-monnaie serait un emplacement plausible", Dietrich replies coolly that he tries to find any address of a family to inform about his death, considering the portmonnaie a plausible location. A collection of different banknotes indicates to the German Captain that the man has travelled around and likely taken the money from the soldiers of different nations he has killed. That he finds no photographs or any personal information appears strange for him, since keeping such reminders of a personal life is very common among soldiers he has known. As the Germans have no address of a family printed on their dog tags, carrying this information in a purse is the next best manner of informing someone should their bodies be found and no Kompaniebuch available in the hands of a responsible officer based on which information can be passed on. Hans' own purse has been confiscated by the SS and likely been taken apart by them which is why he has never regained it. That he has lost Amelie's last photo in this manner increases his anger and pain over the events. Since his rescue the young officer has had no chance of replacing his purse, no money anyways and by now would be at a loss whose photo to carry with him.

Troy has noticed the younger man's haunted stare, after first checking the purse and its contents. Rather gently, he places his hand on his lean friend's shoulder who winces slightly at the touch, but relaxes after a few seconds. "What the hell's haunting you?", Troy inquires with a growl. "The loss of my past", Hans replies honestly, before putting the portmonnaie into his jacket pocket and checking the rest of the man's clothes which returns a map that interests him much more than the purse. "I'll check the other guy", Troy offers, once he realizes what Dietrich is doing, namely searching for information. Sam comes across a tin box with a lid containing all of Louis' prized possessions, including banknotes, coins, small shells and a carved cross, while apart from that he has nothing else about him with the exception of a few spare bullets for his rifle. Troy avoids to look too closely at the wound made by their Browning, before turning to the German Captain who is standing up now and walking over to the Frenchman, holding the map in his hands.

"Pouvez-vous me montrer où vous avez tiré sur l'homme, Monsieur Moulin?", the young officer wants to know whether their remaining Frenchman can show him where they have shot the man on the motorcycle. Christian Moulin nods. "Oui, capitaine Thierry. Ici." Pointing at a location along the main road. Dietrich grimaces at the French name and title, while Moffit grins widely, understanding immediately that the German Captain has used the French translation of his name. Troy has given up on listening in on the French he does not understand and glowers at the resistance fighter in an intimidating manner instead. "We are here, gentlemen", Hans Dietrich points out to Pettigrew, Moffit and Troy where they are positioned on the map and the Frenchman nods in agreement. "Our target has reportedly been shot over here." He moves his finger along the road to the place Christian Moulin has just indicated to him. "We will move out as soon as the dead are buried. Moffit, you help Monsieur Moulin to the Jeep!"

"Je vous aiderai à notre Jeep", Moffit politely offers their injured Frenchman to help him to the Jeep, while Tully approaches Dietrich and signals him to turn around. Raising his eyebrows in surprise, the German Captain walks a few steps with him. "I found this on him, Cap", the Kentucky driver mutters quietly, as he presses a leather briefcase into the young officer's left hand. Skimming through it with wariness and curiosity, Hans Dietrich realizes that it contains several documents of the soldiers of different armies, mostly Germans and Italians, but two Brits are included as well. "Interesting", the lean Captain mutters quietly. "Well done, Pettigrew." Tully smiles at him with actual appreciation, since Dietrich is the only officer who has ever commended him for stealing something. "What's this?", Troy wants to know, as he peeks into the find with wary curiosity. "A collection of their victims I would say, but I intend to ask him", the German replies coolly. "I never thought I'd hear a language I like less than Arabic, but I guess French will win that challenge. It sounds decadent without even understanding a single word. I hate these guys already", Sam Troy complains.

Hans Dietrich actually chuckles slightly at that. "Don't let him hear you! Or he will definitely be offended and might challenge you to a duel of honor. Frenchmen are very proud of their heritage and language", the German explains with an amused smile. "But you are correct, Troy, that French has been established as the language of noblemen and European courts which definitely appreciate it because it carries an air of decadence. This is also the reason why my mother insisted that I would have to learn this language and even paid additional private tutors for my sister who I also joined in her language lessons from time to time." "I could hear that you're pretty fluent with that language. I already get a knot tied in my tongue when I try to speak German. This is a thousand times worse", Troy grumbles ith resentment at the French language. "But I really appreciate having a guy who speaks languages and is good with negotiations, Captain. Jack's more the shoot first, ask questions later type of guy, when he's out in the field. That's probably why he gets along with us so well", Troy muses. Dietrich smirks, as he remarks dryly: "I'd never have guessed." "You're the talker, Cap. Sarge and Doc only ever talked with you successfully", Tully comments and pats the baffled German on the upper arm, before leaving to prepare his Jeep.

Troy looks after him for a few seconds, looking almost as surprised as Dietrich. "Tully really likes you... more than me", the American Sergeant comments with a slight edge in his tone. "Don't get jealous again, Troy. I have enough children and juvenile characters to deal with without you adding to my load!", Hans admonishes with dry sarcasm. "Jerry smartass", Sam Troy grumbles. "Well, it's hard not to like you, once we get to know you apart from being our enemy. The guys won't back down, cause we Yankees can be at least as stubborn as you Jerry." Dietrich sighs wearily, muttering sarcastically: "How could I not have noticed that before?" "Hitch and Tully will pester you, till you give in, even if I call them back to give you some breathing space for now", Troy advises more seriously. The German Captain nods with a fatalistic expression. "I'm quite aware of that." "You still can't leave your past behind so easily", Sam comments grimly, not even formulating this as a question. "You've gone pretty far in a very short while, Dietrich."

The young officer eyes him warily from the side, wondering where this is supposed to lead. "I guess I mean that I'm quite proud to have you as my friend, Captain, now that I realised how hard this is for you." Surprise registers on the younger man's face, but he nods in acceptance. "If you would have told me any of this a month or two ago, I would have considered you absolutely insane, even more so than usual", Dietrich admits. "Jack's right. Insanity's catching", Troy comments with a wide grin, patting the lean Captain on the shoulder. "Looks like they're finished with the graves. We'd better get going. Let's shake it!" The last part, the American Sergeant calls out for the two Corporals to hear and waves in the direction of the Jeeps. Dietrich nods in approval and both turn to their vehicles then.

"Good that you made it, capitaine Thierry", Jack Moffit comments with a grin and a hint of irony. Hans glares at him and merely growls: "Doctor Moffit, did you require anything specific from me?" "I put our new friend in the back with me. I thought you'd appreciate it, if I would keep an eye on him constantly", Moffit explains matter-of-factually, keeping his voice low enough to not be heard by the Frenchman on the Jeep. "That is very circumspect of you, Sergeant", the German replies equally quietly. "I need to ask him a few more questions about his ... personal collection." Cocking his head, as he eyes the young officer with clear curiosity, the British Sergeant spots the leather briefcase held in his right hand. Without any further explanation, the young officer climbs swiftly into the back of the Jeep where he crouches before the Frenchman who sits reclined against their Jerry cans. "Monsieur Moulin, expliquez-moi en quoi consiste cette collection de documents!", Hans addresses with a calm sternness.

Christian Moulin smiles proudly, as he explains that these are the enemies they have shot. "Ce sont les ennemis que nous avons abattus." "Il y a aussi deux soldats britanniques", Dietrich counters sternly that this also includes two British soldiers. "Je suis désolé, capitaine", the resistance fighter apologizes, realising that the American officer fights along with the Brits. "Nous ne l'avons pas remarqué sur leurs uniformes avant de leur tirer dessus. Pouvez-vous donner cela à leurs officiers anglais?" While Moffit bears a hateful expression at the realization that they have shot his British comrades in spite of being their allies, because these French civilians have been unable to recognize the proper uniforms, Hans is somewhat appeased, when the Frenchman asks him whether he could pass on the documents to British officers. In this way at least the men's families can be informed about their fates. "Je veillerai à ce que ces documents soient transmis aux officiers supérieurs responsables", the young German Captain promises to make sure that the documents are passed on to responsible higher ranking officers. "Merci beaucoup, capitaine Thierry", Moulin replies with gratitude. Nonetheless, Dietrich leaves him to his well-deserved tirade at Moffit's mercy, while he calls his drivers, Gottschlich and Pettigrew together to inform the Corporal as well about their intended goal for the next drive.

"Stay alert for further attacks!", the German Captain warns sternly. "We're getting closer to the shifting frontlines and more than just a few resistance fighters who cannot even discern their enemies from their allies might shoot at us. The next German fort is within two days' reach from here and I have no reports on how far West the Allied troops have come until now." Gotty salutes properly, while Tully mutters: "We'll sure keep our eyes open, though we can't compete with you." "You think that further attacks could await us, Captain?", Turner inquires with worry in his tone. "Shouldn't we wait for backup or only go with the convoy?" Dietrich shakes his head, while Troy mutters: "Coward." "Sergeant", the Captain snaps indignantly, before continuing to explain in a more moderate tone: "The danger would be even larger for the convoy and we will have to send a lot more scouts ahead today than we did on the previous days to secure the area for the main convoy. Assuring that they have shot the right man and we don't have to expect further traps and attacks from a ruthless commando soldier who has already killed two of your comrades in cold blood is essential for securing our convoy's track for today." Corporal Turner nods in understanding, avoiding to meet Troy's angry gaze. "Of course. Thank you, Captain."

"What about the Frenchman and the documents?", Troy growls. "He offered them to me to inform our superiors. I doubt I could hardly have come up with a worse punishment than having Moffit hear that he shot his British comrades and starts another tirade", the German Captain comments dryly with clear irony. "Depending on who they have shot, I'm considering throwing the man to Major Bracken. He has practice with chewing out perpetrators, given how much your brother manages to annoy him." Sam Troy grins from ear to ear. "That's truly mean of you, Captain. Though I can understand that sniping all these men from ambushes cannot sit well with you." Dietrich frowns and growls: "It doesn't." Turner looks baffled by the reaction, but does not dare to protest, knowing the German officer's honorable streak by now.

They return to their respective places in the Jeeps, before Tully Pettigrew starts the motor and takes off in the direction they have agreed on. Hans Dietrich next to him keeps a constant eye out for further trouble, regularly checking with the binoculars. Jack Moffit has to admit that his diligence which is bordering on paranoia is actually well-justified and he will never criticize or ridicule the young officer again for this attitude. The French resistance fighter struggles hard to not be thrown out of the Jeep in the meantime. Troy warily keeps his hand on the gun to get up and start firing at any second. Being ambushed once suffices to truly make him paranoid as well. Having the German Captain with his eyes like a hawk is his only relief at the moment, as he has neither Hitch as his reliable driver nor any of his usual team but the two Corporals one of whom he dislikes and distrusts. In addition he is tired from having to rise early for this useless latrine duty and his stomach is reminding him with a growl that he has not had any breakfast yet. Sam Troy definitely has had better mornings.

The area where the resistance fighters are supposed to have shot and buried the motorcycle driver is reached quickly, but without Christian Moulin remembering exactly the spot where they have hidden the corpse, Moffit's expertise in checking the sand comes in handy, since the Frenchman explains that they have caused several sand slides on purpose to hide the dead man and their own tracks. Turner and Gottschlich return to their digging duties where Jack is pointing them, when Troy suddenly fires a salve at a closeby dune. All soldiers duck on instinct searching for some measure of safety, while Dietrich draws his handgun again and tries to hear or see what has triggered the American Sergeant's reaction. A rustling sound behind the dune he uses as cover makes him dash up the side quickly, before he becomes the victim of another ambush.

Once he can discern what Troy has shot, the German Captain lowers his gun slowly. "I suppose you'd better not consider converting to the ancient Egyptian beliefs, Troy. Anubis will surely find your soul wanting, given how many of his holy animals you have shot", Dietrich remarks dryly. "That damn jackal can rot in hell!", the American Sergeant bellows grimly. With a sardonic smile, Jack Moffit adds with sarcasm in his tone: "I must congratulate you, Captain. You have managed in a month what I have failed to do in a year, educated Troy on Egyptian mythology. My father might actually consider wanting to hire you, considering your success as a lecturer. Your enmity with Oxford qualifies you perfectly for Cambridge university." With dry sarcasm, the tall officer counters: "I still have high hopes that my American passport will protect me from such a fate."

"Hey, Cap. We found something", Tully declares proudly, interrupting the conversation. Dietrich puts his gun back into its holster, before moving down the dune again. To check their find, both Moffit and the German Captain meet the other three soldiers. "Definitely German", Jack assesses as he reveals a plaque at the gasoline tank of the motorcycle. "The same goes for the soldier", the young officer declares grimly after recovering the dog tag from underneath the man's shirt, trying not to look too closely at the half missing head and the unnatural position of the limbs resulting from crashing the vehicle. "But I cannot tell you more than that he served in the Wehrmacht as a member of the 5th Panzer Division", Hans Dietrich mutters grimly. "That means that he is neither from the SS nor a special commando unit."

"Avez-vous pris des pièces d'identification ou d'autres documents de sa part, Monsieur Moulin?", the German Captain inquires from the Frenchman whether they have taken any documents from the man. "Oui, capitaine Thierry. Ce passeport", Christian Moulin points at the topmost Wehrpass. Hans calls back "Merci", while studying the document. "Leutnant Max Fleischer. His job was butcher as was his name. No wonder that the man was an expert at killing with precision", Dietrich summarises for Sam Troy who has joined him, trying and failing to read the information from the German document. "He served in the Afrikakorps for a year and before that spent two years in France", the German Captain summarises the military history documented in the passport. "Maudit Boche", Moulin spits out a curse. "What did he say?", Troy wants to know. "Bloody kraut", Moffit translates and Dietrich glares at him, while Troy grumbles: "Sounds too fancy for me. People should feel offended when you curse them, not like you just dipped their nose in a butter cake." "Now you know why the decadent European nobility loves to speak French, Troy. You can offend people to no end without sounding primitive and look down on the plebeians at the same time", Hans comments dryly. "I hear the half-blood plebeian talking through you, Captain", Jack Moffit comments with a grin. "You're just jealous to not be called 'your Lordship', Moffit", the German officer deflects his comment with irony.

"I think we're finished here, gentlemen. Hauptmann Stadler can tell us whether the man served in his unit which I would assume given his German uniform and Erkennungsmarke. We return to camp, report our finds and then assess the situation with the other officers", the German Captain orders sternly. "You mean you'll hang out with the brass, while we just wait for our orders", Troy grumbles. "Didn't even try to pretend to be that compliant for merely a minute, Troy", Dietrich counters dryly. "Well. What are we waiting for? Let's shake it!", the American Sergeant bellows his command which sets everyone in motion.

Their return trip to camp is fast and direct without further complications for which Hans Dietrich is actually grateful to whichever higher entity he has to thank for such a small mercy after a horrible morning. Worn and with growling stomachs they all arrive back in their camp a little more than two hours after leaving. The guards at the gates have been doubled and all of them look relieved at the arrival of their Patrol Jeeps. James Boggs even comes out into the courtyard to meet his German colleague who walks with him to a quiet corner, leaving the coordination of the men to his Sergeants. While removing his protective helmet, Hans informs the older Captain on the run-in with the French resistance fighters, pointing out their new ally and the death of their hunted man.

In addition, the young German officer hands over the briefcase with the documents and points out the Wehrpass of Leutnant Fleischer. "This is the man who was shot, riding a motorcycle, Lieutenant Max Fleischer. He served in the German Afrikakorps for a year. He also was a butcher, trained in precise killing, but I could not read anything about being a commando from his military history as documented in his passport. You should ask Hauptmann Stadler about him being a member of his unit", Dietrich recommends, before providing a proper, but wincing salute. "I have to admit that I'm impressed. I sent you out to hunt a German fugitive and you return with a French ally and more detailed information than HQ is able to provide me after a week of research", Boggs comments with actual admiration. "I understand perfectly why two Generals want such a wily young officer as their Captain, who is able to speak all the languages of allies and enemies alike here in North Africa. Thank you, Captain Dietrich." The tall German nods in quiet acceptance of the praise, then unbuttons the jacket he is wearing and shrugs out of it. "I return this to you, Captain Boggs. You have my gratitude", Hans Dietrich speaks with due formality while holding out the American's jacket. "You're welcome", James Boggs replies calmly. "Get some breakfast. You and your man deserve it, along with some rest."

The German Captain nods with quiet acceptance, too weary to actually complain. "I suppose you require me for translating the confiscated documents afterwards." "I definitely require you for the meeting with Major Turner and General Atkins afterwards, Captain Dietrich", Boggs replies calmly. "You're my most valuable advisor, calm, keen and diligent. I would not wish to report this without you, but I'm already worried enough about keeping you in active service without having you lose more meals and weight." Dietrich looks quite offended at the last part. "I'm not losing my meals on purpose", the young German Captain protests. "I'm not accusing you, Captain Dietrich", Boggs tries to calm the proud young officer. "I merely want to give you some time to recover. If you were in my position, would you as a commanding officer not be concerned about a man in your state of health?" "I would be", Hans has to admit that the American Captain has a point. "I don't appreciate being treated like an invalid though." The proud German raises his head to meet Boggs' gaze squarely. "I wouldn't send an invalid out on patrol. You're a competent officer, efficient and skilled at keeping even the Rats under control. I've hardly ever had so few casualties and so many successful negotiations and surrenders as since you have taken over. Sergeant Troy likes and respects you, as do the rest of them." Dietrich looks baffled at the assessment he has not expected. "You're dismissed for having your breakfast. Report to me afterwards, Captain Dietrich!", Boggs orders quietly. The lean German officer salutes, before turning on his heels and stalking back toward the Jeeps.

"Hans!", Ari cries and runs to his caregiver without caring about the soldiers and vehicles around. Dietrich walks quickly to intercept him, before he might get hurt. The boy wraps his arms around the neck of his beloved brother, taking in his scent, mixed with sweat and the gasoline smell of the Jeep, as he buries his face in Hans' neck. The smell is connected with the German Captain's reassuring presence, available to calm him during his spikes of fear and panic, serving even now to soothe the Jewish boy more than the comforting words spoken by his chosen protector. "You were gone", Ari manages to get out under tears. "I'm sorry to have scared you. We had to act quickly. But we're back now and you don't have to worry, Ari", Dietrich mutters his quiet explanation, feeling a pang of guilt. The Jeeish orphan moves his hand to trace the outline of his brother's face, his mouth, nose, brows, until reaching his hairline. Ruffling through his dark dyed hair, his face breaks into a smile again. "I like your hair like this", the boy tells him with a gentle tone. "I won't always wear it like this, but for a few days I will", the young officer promises, knowing that at some point he will have to appear in front of Allied HQ with his natural hair colour.

Jack Moffit meanwhile explains to an incredulous Christian Moulin that Ari is a Jewish orphan who has adopted the former Wehrmacht Hauptmann as his brother. That the man who has knelt at his dying comrade's side and prayed with him is not a Jewish immigrant to the U. S. as the Frenchman has assumed previously, but an actual German who has even served as an officer in the Afrikakorps is a shock for the young resistance fighter. Troy who is watching him warily, starts barking and snarling at him: "Don't even think about harming our Captain, kiddo! Even your cute French won't help you then." The angry American is an intimidating extra detail which serves to unsettle the young Frenchman even further who cannot understand how they all can adopt and accept a sworn enemy in their midst as little as he can comprehend that the young commander who has appeared smart, eloquent but also compassionate is one of his hated enemies.

With his arm on the Jewish boy's shoulder, Dietrich joins them again, noticing the expressions of the men immediately. "What's going on?", the thin officer inquires warily. "We just explained to Monsieur Moulin who Ari is and which army you served previous to your defection, Captain", Moffit replies smoothly. The German officer tenses visibly at the last part, eyeing the Frenchman with apprehension. Ari notices his tension and wraps his arms around the lean man's waist, burying his face in his shirt. "Quel est votre vrai nom?", Christian asks with a serious expression, looking incredulously at the child. "Hans Dietrich", the tall Captain replies with a grim expression without trying to hide his German intonation now. "Vormals Hauptmann in der 5. leichten Panzerdivision des deutschen Afrikakorps." The unmistakable sound of the German language makes a shiver run down the Frenchman's spine. "Avez-vous combattu en France?", the young resistance fighter asks with a note of panic in his tone whether the man has fought in France. "J'étais officier d'artillerie", Dietrich replies with a grim expression that he has been an artillery officer.

Christian looks torn between confusion, anger, hatred and disbelief that the young man who has negotiated with them in fluent French and stayed at his dying companion's side to pray with him in French is a German officer, one of the hated Boche who have stolen his homeland. "Pour que les choses soient claires, je ne suis pas un nazi ou un sympathisant de leur régime. Je veux voir ma patrie libérée d'eux autant que vous voulez voir la liberté de la vôtre", Dietrich declares grimly that to make things clear he insists that he is not a Nazi or sympathiser of their regime. He wants to see his homeland set free from them as much as the Frenchman wants to see the freedom of his own home. Moffit moves to the German Captain's assistance, confirming his statements and elaborating to convince the young man in French.

Fritz' arrival, jumping up at the young officer's thigh to greet him, before greeting his other friends as well finally dispels the tense atmosphere. The curious and playful little dog greets even the newcomer enthusiastically, especially when he gets scratched behind the ears. Christian Moulin looks up and after some hesitation gives a half-smile to the German Captain who pats his adopted brother's head gently, while the boy keeps nestling to his side. Kiri finds them in this position and joins her little brother in hugging her bigger brother. The Frenchman is incredulous, but dogs and children serve to convince him that the young officer cannot be an utterly bad person. He is not so sure about Jack Sergeant Moffit though who finally accompanies him to the sickbay where the French Swiss nurse Arno is more than happy to take care of their latest patient, quickly intimidating him with her strict manner. Troy meanwhile insists that the rest of them gets their breakfast which meets general agreement. Ari and Kiri lead their brother to the mess where Fritz is following them with unparalleled enthusiasm to receive a second breakfast round. The German Captain pales slightly at the load he receives compared to the others, but still has hopes of being able to share with the children and Fritz.

As the officer's table is more or less deserted, joining his men holds no offence for his colleagues. Hitch greets them with clear relief. "What's happened? Where's Moffit? Is he alright?", the American Private inquires with worry and concern. "Jack's fine, taking care of the Frenchman he and the Captain adopted", Troy replies. "We didn't adopt him", Hans Dietrich protests with a scowl. "We spoke with him, took care of his injuries and took him with us back to camp as you've done countless times with other allied soldiers and fighters." "Yeah, but I've never seen that much pallaver before in a language I like even less than German and Arabic", Troy comments with a grin. "French is not such a horrible language", Hans argues. "Only cause you speak it fluently like almost everything, Captain. You're not any better than Jack", Troy holds against him. "Are you trying to offend Moffit or me?", the German Captain asks dryly. "I'd consider it a compliment, Cap", Hitch comments with a smile. "You're usually the both the smart and educated guys."

"Yeah, and with that black hair of yours you even look like Jack's little brother", Troy adds, while Dietrich winces, seeing Moffit approaching behind the American Sergeant. "Kindly leave the Captain and my family in peace, Troy!", Jack snaps testily. "If you want a brother to annoy, visit yours in sickbay! Major Bracken complained to me for almost five minutes about him and his shenanigans." "Hans is our brother", Ari unexpectedly adds to the discussion, nestling against the lean German's side affectionately. "We need him." "Nobody is taking me away from you, Ari", Hans calms him with a gentle tone. "They are just fooling around." "But having a brother is not a joke", the Jewish boy argues vehemently and Jack Moffit starts coughing, averting his gaze. Dietrich smiles gently, trying to calm the distraught boy. "You're right, Ari. But even with the adults making stupid jokes, you don't have to worry about losing me as your brother." Ari buries his face in his shirt again, mumbling: "I was so worried. Don't leave like that again!" The German Captain bears a guilty expression, as he promises: "I promise you that I won't, unless I can't prohibit it." Ari beams at him, as he pronounces clearly: "I love you." While Dietrich winces and looks quite affected, especially when Kiri tries to repeat her younger brother's words.

"They're a cute family", Hitch comments with a dreamy smile. "I wish I'll become like him." Sam Troy looks a bit astonished, as he asks: "Haven't you told me for a year that you're not made for marriage, Hitch?" "Huh", the young American soldier replies in an indistinct manner. "But I didn't know this before", Mark tries to cover his slip up, pointing at the lean Captain speaking gently with Ari and Kiri. Troy looks even more incredulously from Hitchcock to the German Captain and his adopted native children, as he asks completely baffled: "Since when is Dietrich your idol to follow?" "Cap's a great idol", Hitch argues with conviction. "That's true", Riku Gottschlich unexpectedly assists him, while Tully nods and mutters something indistinguishable. Eric Turner also nods, but does not dare to draw Sergeant Troy's attention and potential ire. Jack Moffit is the only one who does not pay them any heed, as his own guilt about his treatment of his younger brother threatens to overwhelm him after Hitch's previous comment. Admittedly, the resemblance to the skinny German officer has increased even more through dyeing his hair black, when they have already been able to switch clothes due to having the same stature. But the comment about the younger brother has caught him off guard. The young Captain would surely have treated Michael differently than Jack has, avoiding his worst mistakes with actual social aptitude. Even though it pains him to admit that, Dietrich is undoubtedly the more compassionate and warm hearted man which troubles the British scholar.

"Captain Dietrich", Lieutenant Johnson approaches the German officer, looking torn between having his heart warmed by the children's honest and innocent affection and considering the behaviour and public display inappropriate. Hans quietly mutters to Ari and Kiri that he has to take care of the camp, patting each of their heads, before rising to speak with the British officer. "Lieutenant Johnson", the lean Captain greets him with a wincing salute, raising his eyebrows in a questioning manner. Johnson immediately salutes back, before adding: "Major Bracken wishes to speak with you, Sir, regarding the Frenchman." Dietrich bears a wry smile, as he asks sarcastically: "Has he managed to annoy the Major more quickly than Captain Troy usually does?" Johnson gapes at the question, while Sam Troy barks a laugh. "Brilliant, Captain. Finally we got a secret weapon against British humor." Johnson stares at him even more incredulously, while the German Captain remarks dryly: "Das hieße den Teufel mit dem Beelzebub auszutreiben." Seeing their confused expressions, he translates himself: "You would probably call it fighting fire with fire."

Troy grins widely. "Definitely. I'll come with you and keep Davey in check, while you speak with the Major." "I'm much obliged, Sergeant", Dietrich replies dryly. "Although starting a quarrel half the camp can hear hardly counts as keeping him in check." "We get along much better since yesterday", Sam Troy tells him jovially. "What has happ...?", Hans stops himself from finishing the question, blushing slightly, while Johnson glares at the American Sergeant, rubbing his swollen nose with a pained expression. "Let's not keep the Major waiting!", Dietrich suggests to escape the awkward situation, before it escalates. "Ari, Kiri. You stay with Mark Hitchcock until I return!" Both children nod, but look sad to lose their brother again so quickly. "I will accompany you as well, Captain", Moffit, who has finally recovered, offers which his commanding officer accepts with a silent nod. Lieutenant Johnson appears utterly grateful for another British soldier coming along.

Deirdre O'Donnell is the first to approach Dietrich, as he enters the sickbay. "Have you caught the murderer, Captain?", she inquires with a worried tone. "We have, Lieutenant O'Donnell. No need to worry", the tall German officer replies with a calm and reassuring tone. The nurse's relief is apparent, as she sighs deeply, squeezing his forearm briefly, while she adds more quietly: "Lisa will be relieved as well." "We all are", the Captain replies coolly. Troy looks at the two, before whispering into the German Captain's ear: "Looks like Hitch isn't the only heartthrob for the nurses." Blushing, Dietrich glares at him venomously, as he growls: "Why don't you shut up, Troy?" Reining in his tone, Hans turns back to the American nurse, inquiring with some concern: "How is our special patient from this morning, Lieutenant?" "Much better, Captain. We put him with the Australian Private who has also shown worrisome behaviour and they get along really well talking to each other, when they didn't want to speak with anyone else", Deirdre O'Donnell replies with a smile, not having heard what the Bullhead has told the Fox, but knowing their strange friendship well enough by now to simply accept their interaction without worrying.

"Major Bracken", a nervous Lieutenant Johnson reminds them of their original intention at which Dietrich nods. "Of course, Lieutenant. Let's report to the Major." "The Frenchman is also with them", Deirdre tells them diligently. "They have been rather loud for a while." The German Captain sighs wearily. "That's what I have feared. Separate the Frenchman from the Major and particularly from the German and Italian soldiers, Lieutenant, unless the medical personnel wants to enjoy a lot more action and shouting duels in the future." The American nurse nods at the recommendation. "I will tell Doctor Andrews. He'll surely listen to your advice, Captain." Dietrich accepts this, as he turns toward the officer's ward which is suspiciously silent. Surprisingly, David Troy is the first to speak, when they enter: "Dietrich, thank God... Sammy, I can't tell you how glad I am to see you." "Captain Troy!", Major Bracken roars with the tone of an angry grizzly bear. David's instinct for self-preservation tells him that shutting up is the only option that will save his life in the near future, while even his brother appears dumbstruck by the irate atmosphere. Christian Moulin peeks from underneath his blanket, not daring to utter a single sound in the presence of the irritated British officer after having spent the last half hour at the receiving end of his anger.

Hans Dietrich also has enough experience to know when to behave in a manner that will not endanger his own existence. Saluting properly with a slight wince, the tall Captain clicks his heels as he stands at attention, every last fibre tensed, while he observes the men in the room with keen vigilance. Sam Troy has to admit that he has not expected this behaviour which speaks 'proper German officer' in every detail, but it actually serves to calm the British Major somewhat, since the man looks at the lean German Captain, appearing more appeased than a few seconds ago. When he addresses the young Captain though, the Brit still sounds stern and annoyed: "Do you have any idea how much trouble you have caused yesterday, Captain Dietrich?" They are all aware that the question is merely rhetorical, thus Hans wisely remains quiet and applies an appropriately apologetic expression. "I would not have expected such a thoughtless and improper behaviour from a well-bred gentleman such as you", Major Bracken continues scolding the German officer.

"My sincerest apologies for causing this misunderstanding, Major", Dietrich replies politely. "Causing such chaos among the troops has truly not been my intention in the least. You were present, when Doctor Andrews advised me not to wear the German uniform and Captain Troy offered to borrow me his shirt." Applying his most innocent expression, the young officer argues calmly. Bracken snorts with disdain. "I don't pay attention to what this embarrassment for his Majesty's Royal Air Force is doing", the British officer growls, glaring venomously at David Troy who appears unusually intimidated. "If I could switch you against him, I would be quite inclined to take you, Captain Dietrich, in spite of your misgivings and being a German." Coming from Major Bracken, this is quite a compliment, Dietrich considers, as he swallows his wounded pride at the last comment and inclines his head politely. "I'm honoured, Major. Is there any further manner in which I can assist you?", he decides to apply some flattery to appease the Brit which may help him to escape unscathed. "Apart from teaching Captain Troy proper manners which is an impossible task. I've already failed with his brother", he adds with dry sarcasm, as he notices the impossible American bearing a mischievous smile. David's face falls, while Sam grins and mutters to his brother: "You should really start learning from him." "So should you, Sammy", his younger brother counters stubbornly.

"Silence!", Major Bracken bellows like an angry attack dog, stopping both Troy brothers in the middle of their quarreling. Dietrich and Moffit exchange worried glances, until the British officer focuses his attention back on the German Captain. "You can assist me further, Captain. This individual", Bracken points at the Frenchman who is trying to cower even lower, almost hiding completely under the blanket, "has admitted to killing British soldiers. Is this correct, Captain Dietrich?" Hans nods curtly. "As far as I am aware through his admission, Major, this is correct. What I can also confirm is that we found upon his person a briefcase with various personal documents of identification, mainly Wehrpässe of German soldiers, but also two documents belonging to British soldiers who the resistance fighters have killed inadvertently, given that they admitted to being unable to discern the different uniforms. A single courier on a motorcycle, not wearing an obvious Swastika of the German Reich would have looked the same, whether he was British or German, Sir", the young Captain explains calmly.

"I want a courtmartial for these murderers!", Bracken barks lividly. "Major Bracken. This man is a civilian, not the member of an army. Therefore, you cannot call for a courtmartial. Also he is the surviving member of his group of resistance fighters and not solely responsible for the actions of his dead companions. His comrade was their main sharpshooter and also shot at us", the German officer argues calmly. "He shot your German soldiers as well. Don't you want him brought to justice?", Bracken screams slightly hysterically. Hans Dietrich tenses visibly at the words and narrows his eyes dangerously, before answering with an icy tone: "I have never harmed civilians for retribution, not in Poland, not in Belgium or France, not in Tunisia or Libya, Major. And I surely will not start doing so now, independent of which side I serve." That the German Captain rises in his defence, while the British officer asks for his execution is unbelievable for the French resistance fighter who stares between the two men openmouthed. Dietrich bears an expression that clearly communicates that he will not budge, as he meets the Major's eyes with a proud and defiant gaze. "If you require nothing else from me, I suggest that we retreat, Major Bracken", Hans adds coldly. "Dismissed!", the British officer barks angrily and Dietrich spins on his heels, eager to leave, when David Troy's shout stops him: "Dietrich, wait!" Can this infernal family never leave him in peace?

"What do you want, Troy?", the German Captain hisses lividly, narrowing his eyes when he sees the pilot beckon him to come closer. Crouching next to the injured man's bedside, the younger officer cocks his head, as he raises his eyebrows in a questioning manner. "When I promise to defect to you, will you rescue me from here?", David asks with a whisper, glancing desperately in the direction of the angry Major. "Has this episode cost you your last shreds of sanity, Troy? You're already an American. If you want to get rid of the Brits so desperately, I can send you Major Turner or General Atkins to arrange returning to your original home and join their army", Hans whispers back, sounding just as incredulous as he feels. "That's a good idea. Could you do that for me?", David inquires. "I can inform them, but right now your reputation in camp is bad enough that Captain Boggs might rather shoot you than take you in", the German officer warns him dryly.

"Old Baldy won't do that. He barks and bites even less than you", David replies with a mischievous grin. "Unless I inform him about your innovative nickname. I'm sure, he'll feel flattered", Hans counters sarcastically. "You wouldn't, would you? I thought we're friends", the younger Troy brother whines. "Not even in my worst nightmares, Troy. I'm merely assisting you to preserve the peace in camp for long enough to reach our destination safely", the German Captain argues dryly. "Rescuing his Majesty's army from this pest is a heroic deed, Captain, and makes up for some of your transgressions" Bracken intercedes in such a condescending tone that both Troys glare at him in addition to Dietrich and Moffit. Squeezing the American pilot's arm gently, the German officer vows: "I'll send you Major Turner." "You're my hero, Dietrich", David Troy replies with actual gratitude. The time after Major Bracken's discovery of the unintentional prank and the pilot's inappropriate hilarity has been a living hell for David Troy and he cannot wait to be back among Americans after this overdose of British attitude.

Standing up swiftly, Hans Dietrich provides a sharp salute and then turns to stalk out of the officer's ward, followed by Sam Troy and Jack Moffit. "Thanks for helping Davey. I really felt like telling that arrogant English ass my opinion in my favourite way, if you wouldn't have gotten him under control pretty well, Captain", the American Sergeant growls angrily, cracking his knuckles, while he glares over his shoulder. "Thank God you didn't, Troy, or scrubbing latrines would have felt like a holiday compared to keeping your insane unit from breaking you out of jail and deserting your army", Dietrich mutters wearily, pinching his nose. "We could still join the Arabs and you marry that cute little princess that Arab Prince offered you", Sam Troy counters with his grin returning. "Troy, you and your brother almost cost me more nerves since we're on the same side than you did as my enemies and that is a truly unbelievable feat", Hans complains with a fatalistic tone. "You're a good friend, Dietrich", Troy comments unperturbed, squeezing the younger man's shoulder. "Indeed, you are", Jack assists him unexpectedly. "If I wouldn't have been convinced already that I prefer your style over a British officer's, I would be by now, Captain", Moffit tells the lean German who raises his eyebrows, looking slightly baffled how the two have managed to spin this conversation by 180 degrees and take him by surprise again. During the meeting, Boggs has announced for after breakfast Dietrich will have the chance to speak with Major Turner and General Atkins to suggest David Troy's unexpected change of ways. He will definitely enjoy pulling the Troy maneuver on them and watching their incredulous faces.