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!)

13. Dum inter homines sumus colamus humanite

Captain Boggs has apparently decided not to wait for Dietrich and Silberblatt, as he is already digging into his cold lunch at the officers' table, when the two younger officers arrive at the mess hall. Due to their off-set compared to the preferred dining hours, the tent is mostly empty with the notable exception of four soldiers with distinctive head gears gathered at a table near the entrance. While a few other patrol soldiers who have returned from scouting duty and sit scattered at different tables do not look too closely at the two unfamiliar officers, a Sergeant with an Australian bush hat and his companions stare curiously at the taller one of the two new-comers. Hans Dietrich shoots them a wary look, but turns to follow Jakob to gather something to eat.

A young freckled Private emerges behind the counter with a sheepish smile which disappears immediately, as he recognizes two officers standing before him. "I'm sorry, but we only have cold food left from lunch, Captain, Lieutenant." "Don't worry about it, Private", Jakob smiles gently, as he hands over an empty plate. His tall friend meanwhile scowls at the young American who has dared to eye Dietrich's bruised face with too much undisguised curiosity. Not risking to actually ask the dour looking officer a question, the young man hands the Captain his plate and the German cannot help but notice that his portion appears somewhat bigger than Jakob's. Too pragmatic and actually famished to complain, he takes the dish with a polite "Thank you, Private" without bothering to use a tablet which he considers too risky to carry with his freshly strained shoulder anyways.

At a moderate pace, they both walk over to Captain Boggs who is eyeing the German officer in the American uniform with better veiled curiosity than the Rats. Hans Dietrich in spite of his black eye and bruised face carries himself with an air of dignity that calls for respect of his rank more clearly than his uniform does. "Captain Boggs", he addresses the older Captain in form of a greeting with a slight bow of the head, while the Lieutenant smiles openly in a fashion more fitting for a young American. "Please gentlemen, take a seat", Boggs invites them. His own lunch finished, he intends to observe the latest addition to the rank of his officers. Although he is formally his equal in ranks, the younger German is supposed to serve under his command for the time being. Merely two hours earlier, General Atkins has informed Boggs of his intentions for the defected German officer and the Rat Patrol. Those plans have turned by almost 180 degrees compared to the General's original plan.

Dietrich at least seems polite enough, even though Boggs recognizes his unease from the tension in his whole body and his careful placement at the table in such a way that the German can observe almost all Allied soldiers in the room. With his eyes regularly switching from his current company at his table to the scattered American soldiers who have until recently been his enemies, Dietrich considers himself reminded of the same strange sensation he has felt when infiltrating the American base and enjoying a meal in their canteen.

After yesterday's cue how bad Italian cuisine packed in tins and mixed with mystery meat can actually be, the fresh American food feels like a culinary revelation, even after having cooled. His body has finally re-adapted to solid meals and finishing his portion feels more like a relief than an ordeal. Not smoking constantly to quench his hunger also helps in the current situation of having more food available than the bare minimum required for survival. Memories come unbidden of running along with his men on reduced rations for days on end after another supply convoy has fallen victim to the American commandos whose commander he is now sharing the meal with. Blinking Dietrich draws himself out of his reverie and becomes aware of his surroundings again. Jakob opposite him has finished his lunch and is chatting with Captain Boggs who still keeps a watchful eye on the German officer at all times. Mutual trust will take a long way to reach for both sides Dietrich muses, as his eyes shift to look from the American Captain to the Rats chatting at their table and glancing in his direction from time to time.

"Captain Boggs", Dietrich addresses the American officer who observes him intently. "The majority of prisoners will be transported in the General's convoy tomorrow, but several of the Italians and some of my men including Sergeant Deutsch, Nemet, are in too bad a physical condition to be transported so soon." The German hesitates how to formulate his offer without affronting the American, but Captain Boggs beats him to it: "You need not worry for your former men. They will be well cared for, even though the planning of the housekeeping and distribution of the supplies the General has brought along and left us for this purpose will be a nightmare." Asking himself briefly whether the other has guessed his intent and wants to this request smoother for him or he has simply been lucky for once, Hans Dietrich grasps the provided chance. "I can offer to be of assistance in this regard. Coordinating, calculating and distributing supplies and rations is my area of expertise, unlike being in charge of desert commandos." The last part is spoken with a wry smile.

Captain Boggs evaluates the offer. On the one hand, he would entrust the newly defected German officer with their detailed supply lists, while on the other hand Dietrich undoubtedly possesses more experience with such coordination tasks than anybody else in his camp, as Boggs himself is typically only responsible for keeping a well-equipped base for the relatively small group of scouts and commandos, but not for larger contingents of troops in particular with large numbers of wounded soldiers and prisoners to take care of in addition. Finally, James Boggs decides to give the younger officer a chance of providing useful assistance to his new side, as long as he is not fit for duty on a desert patrol. The organisation of the party for boosting the morale of the troop which General Atkins has ordered to be held on short notice is already bothering Boggs enough to make him appreciate any assistance. "I am grateful for the offer. If you could also check with the sickbay on the situation of the wounded and coordinate their release with Doctor Andrews, I would be even more grateful, as I lack the time at the moment. Only after this the planning of the supply plans can begin." Dietrich nods curtly in acceptance of the order. "It will be done, Captain Boggs." At second thought, Boggs replies: "It seems I have been able to heed your advice after all and get a skilled interpreter for Italian." Dietrich is taken by surprise by the good-humored statement, before replying with a wry smile: "Quanto conveniente. How convenient."

"I will talk with the two Axis officers then, Sir", Silberblatt interrupts their friendly banter. While Boggs simply nods in acceptance, Dietrich adds with a sly smile: "Remember, Jakob, first Haberfeld, then Marcello. The Italian will chatter your ear off, if you do not take care." "Thank you for the warning. If it gets too bad, I can always call you in as backup", Jakob smiles back and even grins at his friend's narrowing eyes after the last statement. Their ways separate, as each turns toward their respective tasks. While Jakob walks up to the prison area, Dietrich accompanies Boggs to receive the lists of wounded prisoners' names and the supply register, as provided to Boggs a few hours prior, before turning toward the sickbay.

When Dietrich enters the hospital tent, several people inside freeze to stare at him. Doctor Andrews appears only briefly stunned, while Doktor Sommer just gapes open-mouthed at the appearance of his former Hauptmann in an American officer's uniform. The nurses are the fastest to recover, as whispers start from the part of the tent where Deirdre O'Donnell and Lisa Hartigan stand together believing themselves unobserved by the men in the tent. Ignoring the infuriationgly gossipy women, the Captain turns toward the American Doctor and greets him along with his German colleague. "Doctor Andrews, I am to document which prisoners are fit enough to be transferred tomorrow to support Captain Boggs with calculating the supplies and rationing of food and medicine", Hans Dietrich states matter-of-factly without bothering to give an explanation for his change of uniform.

While his American colleague seems more accepting, Doktor Sommer demands an explanation: "Hauptmann Dietrich, was geht hier vor sich? Weshalb tragen Sie eine amerikanische Uniform?" Eyeing his former Stabsarzt who has stood by him and his men for a full year with a mixture of caution and sympathy, Hans Dietrich replies in English, carefully balancing the answer for both doctors to hear. "Doktor Sommer, you are aware that I was sentenced to death for a treason against Germany I had not actually committed. I have come to realize that continuing to serve those who have violated and betrayed our German fatherland would be actual treason and accepted the opportunity to liberate our home of those who lie to our people and have them cower in fear, the Nationalsozialisten and the SS." While his explanation starts out in a calm and controlled intonation, his tone of voice during last part speaks of the utter loathing and disdain the Captain feels for the Nazis and their armed SS forces. Doktor Sommer nods in understanding and his voice resounds with sympathy: "Ich verstehe, Herr Hauptmann. Ich kann Ihnen nur alles Gute dafür wünschen." With a pained smile the officer responds: "Thank you, Doktor. I also wish you the best of luck for your trials ahead. As a medic you should be taken good care of, even in American captivity. I trust that you will take at least as good care of the men transported tomorrow, as you will accompany them." Sommer nods in acknowledgement not having expected anything else from his former Captain.

"I want to check on the men myself before I will list them as able to be transported or not", Dietrich then addresses both Doctor Andrews and Doktor Sommer. "Let us start with the German soldiers. I assume Feldwebel Deutsch cannot be transported tomorrow." Walking up to the cot of his Feldwebel, Dietrich takes in his bruised and swollen face with obvious concern. "He is not at risk of dying because of the transportation itself", Doktor Sommer tells him, "but we both cannot predict how the men who have attacked him once will treat him in the future. Or how other fanatical Germans will." The Captain frowns deeply, sharing his medic's sentiment perfectly. "His only chance to escape this would be to defect. But he ended up with the Wehrmacht in the first place, because his family has ties with the Austrians and there is no love lost between him and the Allies who have killed his father, grandfather and many of his male family members in the last great war. Which is why he joined the Wehrmacht to fight against them." The man in question is stirring in his sleep, as voices near his cot continue to speak. Recognizing Dietrich's voice, Deutsch snaps open his eyes and tries to sit up and salute. "Zur Stelle, Herr Hauptmann!", he reports, as Dietrich pushes him back onto the cot and mutters in a rather gentle, but firm tone telling him to rest: "Sie sollten sich ausruhen, Feldwebel! Das ist ein Befehl." "Jawohl, Herr Hauptmann!", the man mutters groggily and sinks back on the bed going back to sleep as ordered.

"I will search for a solution for him", Dietrich mutters to Sommer, before turning to the next German soldier. Private Kierner sleeps under the influence of morphine, feeling neither real nor imagined pain in the stump of his leg. "He cannot be transported for more than a few hours. Bringing him here from the base almost killed him and he needs time for his recovery", Sommer warns and Andrews agrees. Dietrich marks the second name on his list as untransportable. Checking every single one of his remaining soldiers and speaking to those who are awake, Dietrich terms one more as untransportable, while the others can the transferred to a POW camp.

In a similar fashion, Hans Dietrich checks on the Italian soldiers of which only forty remain, after one has died in the morning from an infection of his wound. Here, the majority of men is untransportable, while only sixteen can be transferred to a POW camp without risking their lives. With a frown, the German officer checks his list of wounded. This will reduce the load in the hospital from almost 50 to 27 Axis soldier patients which will still be a logistical challenge for the camp typically housing approximately 50 LRDG soldiers which spend most of their time away and only return for replenishing supplies. The supply lists show that this degree of capacity utilization will barely be covered by the extra supplies provided by General Atkins. According to his estimates, their care is covered only for less than two weeks, before these wounded prisoners put an extra strain on the camp's supplies beyond what the General has covered with his transport.

The German Captain starts, as somebody touches his arm while he has fully sunken into his calculations. "You should at least sit down for your work, Herr Hauptmann", Doctor Sommer admonishes gently, having known the young officer for long enough to recognize the behaviour which he has seen countless times. Their well-established relationship shows as Dietrich simply takes a seat at the medic's table without a comment or complaint and continues his calculations and predictions of supply usage. Doctor Andrews observes the interaction with curiosity. That Sommer would leave tomorrow, while Dietrich would stay as an officer is a strange turn of events as far a he is concerned, yet he has started to like the German officer more than some of the rowdy and inconsiderate American commando troopers and definitely more than some of the old school American brass. From what he has been able to observe in the past few days, the man deeply cares about the well-being of others, his own troops as much as the Italians he has never met before.

An hour later, a strict plan for supplies and rations for the whole camp has been set up which Hans Dietrich considers should save a good portion of materials compared to the current inconsiderate waste. With a content expression, he gets up and turns to leave, politely greeting the doctors on his way out. As he arrives at Captain Boggs' office tent, some commotion is happening. Half a dozen American officers stand at attention and await their orders regarding the final organisation of the evening party on which they have already worked for the past few hours. One of them turns to look in Dietrich's direction, as the German has just entered the tent. Frowning at the bruised man with narrowed eyes, the Lieutenant of the LRDP then exclaims: "That's a Jerry spy!" Hans Dietrich's first instinct is to run for his life, but he wrestles it under control, while his whole body still tenses involuntarily. Running would only confirm the suspicion against him and he has as much right to be here as any of them.

The man who has shouted, a lean, blond American slightly shorter than himself, and a second American, even shorter, but a lot beefier with a dark shock of hair, are closing in on him. While Dietrich can still dodge an arm meant to grab him and block on mere instinct with his left arm a second attack when the lean one strikes out, he finds all air knocked out of his lungs, as the beefier American whom Dietrch has just dodged has decided to use the German's exposed flank while he has blocked his other attacker for a full force attack against the young Captain's side. With a grunt of pain, the already bruised officer staggers slightly and fights to remain standing. Before another blow can hit the German officer however, Captain Boggs' irate shout "Stop this immediately!" has everybody freeze instantly. "Lieutenant Baker and Griffith. You will cease to attack the Captain at once!" Unused to such a sharp and loud tone from their Captain, the two men obey immediately, while still eyeing the slightly swaying German warily.

Hans Dietrich has dropped the list of wounded prisoners and supplies during his defense and is struggling to keep a neutral expression on his face which betrays neither the physical pain in his ribs nor his anger at the unwarranted assault. Has neither the General nor the Captain bothered to inform their own officers of his status and identity, the defected Wehrmacht Hauptmann asks himself grimly. "I know this man to be a German officer", the lean Lieutenant Baker protests. "I am aware of that fact", James Boggs counters grimly. "Captain Dietrich has defected recently and joined our unit on the explicit order of General Atkins", the older man states sharply. "You could not have known this before now. But any further assault against him will be treated as insubordination and assault against a U.S. army officer. Is this clear, gentlemen?" Several nods from all sides answer this question affirmatively.

"Captain Dietrich", the German officer straightens immediately, stands at attention and salutes sharply in spite of the pain in his ribs and shoulder. "Please meet Lieutenant Baker", Boggs points at the lean blond man in his early thirties who still eyes him with a wariness that reflects Dietrich's own. "Lieutenant Griffith", the beefy man of about 45 years eyes him with barely concealed aggression, as Dietrich subconsciously presses his right arm against his aching ribs. "Lieutenant Carter", a freckled man with red hair and an almost friendly smile looks at the lean German officer curiously. The Captain guesses his age as mid-thirties. "Lieutenant Carlos", the dark-haired and sun-tanned man almost as tall as Dietrich with clearly more muscle on his frame nods grimly. The Lieutenant appears younger than most at approximately thirty years of age. "First Lieutenant Adams", a blond American almost two decades older and slightly shorter than the German Captain observes him warily and in his eyes clearly shines recognition, but no positive association. "First Lieutenant Winters", Boggs introduces the last man in his late thirties, muscular and with balding brown hair. Most of the assembled officers give rather sloppy salutes, while Carlos stands out as the only one with an equally sharp salute as the German Captain.

Gingerly, Dietrich picks up the dropped lists, once he is assured that no immediate threat to him is lurking any more. Captain Boggs finishes his debriefing of the officers, before dismissing them. His younger German colleague meanwhile has stayed close to the entrance of the tent, never dropping his proud stance, as he constantly keeps his back straight and eyes warily scanning his surroundings. Several of the junior officers eye the tall and lean former Wehrmacht Hauptmann with unveiled curiosity, as they pass him by on their way out. "I am sorry for the incident", Boggs assures the German, once the last of the other Americans has left the tent. Dietrich brushes it off with a carefully neutral expression and tone: "It is the behaviour I would already have expected earlier. Why have they not been informed before?", he asks with a slight edge in his voice. "Apparently the General thought this evening would be sufficiently early for introductions", the American Captain answers with slight exasperation. "I hope you have not been injured", Boggs eyes the tense stance and the right arm still pressed against Dietrich's ribs in a subconscious gesture speaking of injury that the older officer assumes the proud German would deny immediately.

"I have comprised the list of prisoners ready for transport tomorrow and those still untransportable", the younger Captain reports instead of an answer with a carefully schooled neutral expression. Boggs sees how the man's pride and stubbornness will have forced a grudging respect from Sergeant Troy. "I have checked them all personally, but more than half, 27 to be precise, have to stay and receive further treatment and time to heal before transportation to a POW camp can be considered safe. To take care of their provisions, I have devised a distribution plan for the current supplies that should last for the next two weeks, until the Doctors deem most of them transportable. Only the question of what to do with Feldwebel Deutsch, Német, remains independent of that." Captain Boggs eyes the German with honest surprise, as Dietrich steps up to his desk to hand him the lists. The calculations alone would have taken the American twice the time. The young German Captain actually knows what he is doing and he is quick and efficient in performing his job. "Thank you, Captain", Boggs is truly grateful for the valuable work and the younger officer bows his head slightly in acceptance of the praise.

"You are expected for the dinner party with the General this evening and to attend at the officers' table!", Boggs orders. "I expect you to act as an officer and gentleman. And do not let them taunt you to act unreasonably." Dietrich almost smiles, as he replies dryly: "You need not worry about my behaviour. I have been indoctrinated since childhood and can actually swallow my pride, if my life depends on it." The last part is spoken with slight self-mockery and Boggs actually finds himself smiling slightly at the younger man's wry sense of humor. "Have your side checked, Captain", Boggs orders, "and stay out of harm's way!" "I am not the one to actively go seeking trouble", the lean German snaps back with slightly wounded pride. "I would not accuse you of that, but you are not one to back down from challenges either", Boggs retorts and the younger man raises his head proudly to meet his gaze squarely, as he growls: "The easy way out is for cowards." The American Captain smiles at the unrelenting attitude of the German Captain neither the SS have been able to beat out of him, nor he would ever be able to dissuade him from. It is because of this attitude the proud young officer so obviously shares with the leader of the Rat Patrol that Boggs starts to understand the mutual respect between the two men far better now. After dismissing the German Captain, Boggs picks up Dietrich's file, as handed to him by HQ and translated by Moffit from the man's SS file.

Unaware of Boggs' field of study for the moment, Hans Dietrich briefly evaluates whether or not to return to sickbay, but Andrews' sharp words reminding him of regaining his mobility with his main arm finally bring him there. Both Sommer and Andrews are surprised to see the young officer back in sickbay so soon again. His bearing of having his right arm pressed against his side lets them suspect some injury immediately. "You're leading a risky life style, Captain, even in comparison with many of our commando troopers", Doctor Andrews comments with a twinkle in his eyes that greatly annoys Dietrich who growls: "Are you under the impression that I would choose this, Doctor? I did not start this fight!" "But you are too proud to back down from it either, aren't you?", Andrews smiles. "Take off the shirt so I can check those ribs." The German complies and keeps a neutral expression, even though Andrews is aware of how tense his whole posture is compared to any American he is typically treating here. In spite of his defection and wearing an American uniform Dietrich is still living under the subconscious notion of being surrounded by enemies.

"What has happened?", Doktor Sommer asks with concern. "One of the American officers considered me a German spy and attacked me along with a second one", the German Captain snaps. "Is this Lieutenant Griffith's work I am seeing here?", Andrews asks, as he checks whether the ribs under the darkening bruises are cracked. Dietrich just grunts in a non-committal manner that Andrews takes as an affirmative. "He used to win money as a semi-professional boxer before the war, just to keep in good shape. I would recommend you refrain from fist fights with him, unless you wish to regain your permanent cot here in sickbay again, Captain." "In spite of your wonderful company, Doctor, I would rather stay anywhere else", Dietrich counters dryly and Andrews laughs out loud. "You are always welcome to visit, Captain. I like your sense of humor, quite unlike that of the other commandos around here with the notable exception of Sergeant Moffit." Swallowing a comment on not comparing him with the Rat Patrol, Dietrich reminds himself that Troy and Moffit have landed him in the league with this particular unit. At least, he finds himself at good terms with the local medic who he will likely have need of in the future given his hazardous line of work.

"Hauptmann", the enthusiastic shout of the child startles all three men. "*Ari, stay in bed!*", Dietrich snaps, as the boy starts to shamble toward him with a light sway in every step. "*But it is so boring*", the child complains without fear of the soldier or his strict tone. "I suppose he is not supposed to be up and about?", Dietrich asks the two medics, not bothering with rebuttoning his shirt while the boy needs his attention, as he gets up to intercept Ari before he stumbles and hurts himself. "He is better and we will likely not be able to contain him much longer", Andrews answers. "You can release him into Lieutenant Silberblatt's care. He will arrange his new living conditions", Dietrich gives the order in case he will not be around when it is required, while he steers the boy back to his cot. "*I can imagine that it is boring, Ari. But you can leave soon and then Jakob will take care of you*", Dietrich tries to convince the boy putting on a friendly smile. "*What about you?*", the Jewish child asks. "*I will have to leave soon to do my work*", comes the answer forbidding any discussion "*Will you ride through the desert again?*", Ari asks curiously. By now, the German is smiling in honest amusement. "*Yes. I will ride through the desert. But not with a horse this time. When you are better, you may see the Jeeps.*" "*I want to get better soon*", Ari crows, sounding enthusiastic. "*Then lie down now and go to sleep*", the Captain orders good-naturedly and the child complies immediately with a delighted expression, as he envisions the desert mobiles.

Before Dietrich can leave the sickbay after a quick exchange with the two medics, a young soldier with short black hair steps into the tent with a frown on his face. "Are you Captain Dietrich, Sir?", the short dark-haired man addresses the tall officer. With a frown, the German confirms and continues to observe the young man, as something about his features strikes him as odd. "Lieutenant Silberblatt has asked for you to join him", the young man informs him stiffly. "Bring me to him, Corporal...", Dietrich scoops to read the name on the uniform, "Gottschlich". The German name surprises him, before he realizes that the soldier could be a German stemming exile like Jakob. The young man eyes Dietrich with more curiosity than hostility though, as he leads the way.

"Are you German, Sir?", Corporal Gottschlich finally dares to ask. The older officer eyes him cautiously without answering immediately. "Nobody has ever pronounced my surname like this except for grandpa. My grandfather was German, Sir", the young soldier finally provides as information. "He used to teach me some words, but after the great war he was reluctant to tell anybody his origin." Nodding in understanding, Dietrich follows him along. "I see, Corporal. It must have been hard for him. And yes, I am German. Captain Hans Dietrich", the Captain finally responds in a more amiable manner with a brief salute that the young man returns after a few moments of bewilderment. He pronounces his own surname differently from the young American in the way it is originally supposed to be pronounced. "Have you been long in the desert, Sir?", Corporal Gottschlich asks sheepishly feeling encouraged to ask questions, as the bruised looking officer has not been unfriendly. Dietrich actually smiles with faint amusement at that questions. "You could say so, Corporal." "I arrived here with General Atkins, Sir. I am supposed to learn my ways in the desert here", the young man provides openly and Dietrich starts to question the Allied headquarters' sanity to send a young and inexperienced soldier like this to work with commando units, but does not voice this openly.

As no response is forthcoming and they near their destination, Gottschlich silently opens the tent flap to let the tall officer pass, before taking up his post as a guard behind him. Jakob sits with Tenente Marcello at a table and both seem to be chatting amiably. As soon as the Italian spots Dietrich, he gets to his feet with a wide smile. "Che bello to see you, Capitano. I see you already have una nuova uniforme." "Da vero, Tenente", Dietrich comments coolly, glad that the overbearing Italian does not get up to pull him in a hug. "What can I do for you, gentlemen?" Jakob grins at his friend. "You were right about not making plans for the rest of the day." Marcello looks slightly confused, while Dietrich smiles with amusedment. Both are far too easy to predict. His expression turn bemused, when his friend continues: "Since we already have plans for the evening, I decided to integrate Lieutenant Marcello as the entertainer for the General's party."

"And you believe that an evening filled with arias from different operas will be the right entertainment for a tent full of rowdy Americans?", the German Captain asks cautiously with his doubt resounding in his voice. "Anything is better than these boring dunes which is their usual entertainment." Jakob pouts almost like he has used to act, when they have still been in school together, as he adds: "I heard that you and the other Germans got a special performance yesterday of Mozart's 'Zauberflöte'. I would have loved to hear that." Hans Dietrich knows that Jakob is actually serious and would not miss another chance of hearing an opera performance here in the desert. With a deep sigh, the German inquires: "And what exactly are you expecting of me? You have the better connections with the General, Jakob, and it is your job to convince Axis officers to cooperate." "Merely your support in releasing him for the evening and for now to prepare the performance", Jakob answers nonchalantly.

Dietrich stares at him briefly in disbelief, before countering indignantly: "Do you have any idea what releasing my own former fellow prisoners means for my already bad reputation? I do not wish to be charged with treason again! Talk Captain Boggs or your friend, General Atkins, into it, but I cannot help you." Jakob looks not amused, but Marcello is rather understanding. "I can always sing from the prisoners' areale." "I will find a solution myself", Jakob dismisses his friend rather harshly, but Silberblatt's peeved attitude is of little relevance for the Captain. "You can always just have him brought in, as if it was a spontaneous idea. You won't have preparations, but you can get your performance", Dietrich suggests based on years of experience with officers' parties. By now both Marcello and Silberblatt are beaming. "That is an excellent solution. Thank you, Hans." Sighing at the almost childish behaviour of his long-term friend, the German asks with sharp sarcasm: "Is there any further way how I can be of assistance?" "No. All is fine", Jakob starts out, but Marcello intercedes making Dietrich regret to ever have posed the question. "Capitano, per favore. Would you be so kind to do the translazione for me? Somebody has to explain the lirico of the songs and the storia della opera." "I am a soldier, not a stage performer", the German officer growls. "Ma no", Marcello tries to calm him. "Only if il generale asks for it. You can stay at the table per gli ufficiali." "Only if the General asks for it. Do not draw me into this performance of yours, Tenente Marcello!", the German demands crisply. "Si. Te lo prometto, Capitano", the Italian Lieutenant promises.

Taking his leave quickly before any further absurd requests can be made of him, Hans Dietrich intends to retreat to Jakob's tent where he has currently taken up residence, as Fritz intercepts him with the long-suffering look of a dog who has been kicked out of the kitchen when it has been filled with all too promising smells of various meat preparations. The dinner is close enough for them to not be wasting time with the dog mascot. After petting his companion of the past few months, Dietrich turns to take a shower before changing into a fresh uniform for the evening. After all, he has his personal standards to maintain, independent of the Americans around him.

Jakob joins him briefly before they are all expected at the General's dinner at 1900 with a look on his face as if Hanukkah has come early. Knowing him from years of youthful mischief in their teenage years, Dietrich only hopes that his friend will stay with his original suggestion and not try to make an even better show of Marcello's performance. As they walk over to the mess tent, the German glances around warily, as if expecting an attack at any time. "Calm, Hans. You are not among enemies", Jakob whispers to his taller friend, once he has noticed the behaviour. The German merely snorts. "That has not been my impression until now." Keeping a watchful eye on the American soldiers and officers, Dietrich recognizes several to whom Captain Boggs has introduced him this afternoon. Lieutenant Carlos approaches them, as Jakob takes his leave to discuss his 'spontaneous idea' with the General. "Good evening, Captain Dietrich", the officer greets his German colleague politely. "Good evening, Lieutenant Carlos", Dietrich replies equally politely eyeing the other man with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. Carlos is rather short, athletic and darker skinned than the average Caucasian American with black hair. Trying his luck with the few Spanish phrases he has learned in the neutral towns with Hispanic populace, Dietrich tests the other: "Or should I say 'Buenas tardes'?"

Carlos' eyes briefly light up, as he continues in English, but with an honest smile: "I have heard that you have quite a gift for languages, Captain Dietrich. But it is interesting to see for myself." "My Spanish is rather terrible", the German confesses pleased with his success. "But your English is excellent", Carlos counters in a friendly manner. "Thank you, Lieutenant. What did you want from me?", Dietrich inquires curiously never dropping his guard. The Hispanic officer smiles broadly now. "I was merely curious and wanted to speak with you, before everyone else will occupy you." Dietrich frowns darkly, as the American continues: "You will be quite the attraction of the evening." The German Captain would not have thought that he would actually be relieved for Silberblatt's and Marcello's scheme of their opera performance, especially not so soon, but now he finds himself in just that situation. "May I ask you why you have defected, Captain?", Carlos inquires cautiously eyeing the German officer's bruised face. With a wary expression, Dietrich regards the American and weighs his options of dodging the question versus trying to gain an ally among the LRDG officers.

Deciding for the latter option, he replies matter-of-factually with only a hint of resentment: "I have been accused of treason and finally found guilty as well as been sentenced to die after having a firing squad shoot at SS soldiers rather than the Jews they were supposed to execute." Carlos looks rather speechless for a few moments, before nodding in response. "So there is no turning back for you." Dietrich snaps in righteous anger now: "I am a German officer and a man of my word, Lieutenant Carlos. When I give my word to stand by a cause, I will do so until the bitter end!" Taken aback by the outburst of the previously calm German, Carlos admonishes: "I did not wish to accuse you, Captain. I believe you that you are in a tough situation and have no easy way out." "The easy way out is for cowards", Dietrich cites his father's words and Carlos actually smiles. "A good soldier's principle. I will see you later, Captain Dietrich. Hasta luego."

Meanwhile among the enlisted men, the Rats have gained the upper hand in the quarrel over a part of the table which has room for all four of them. Some members of Griffith's rather annoyed looking desert crew take off to harass somebody else, angrily bumping into a young dark-haired Corporal who almost drops his dinner tablet. "Steady, lad", Troy puts a hand on the young man's shoulder and directs him to an empty place between himself and Hitch. "Who are you?", the blond American asks enthusiastically, while his other two companions observe them silently. "Corporal Riku Gottschlich", the young man introduces himself. "Your surname sounds rather German", Moffit comments curiously. "Are you an exile?" Gottschlich shakes his head violently. "No. I was born in the U.S., as was my father. My grandfather was German and my mother is Japanese." A sad expression crosses his face. "They almost took away our home, sent my uncles and aunts and my cousins to internment camps in California. I thought only the Italians and German Nazis did that, until it happened to my own family." The young man looks close to tears and Hitch places a hand on his shoulder squeezing gently. "Don't worry. Nobody will harm you here." The young soldier smiles gratefully back at him, while Troy and Moffit exchange worried glances. This youngster should not be among the battle-hardened desert commandos.

At the officer's table, Jakob Silberblatt looks rather pleased with himself, as he joins his friend soon thereafter to tell him that the General has conceded to let Marcello perform later in the evening. While the enlisted soldiers have to gather their own meals, the officers are served for the evening as part of the General's evening event. Dietrich has almost forgotten, when he has received a three course meal at an officer's club for the last time, but it has definitely been months. As Jakob gets up to fetch their evening attraction, General Atkins holds him back, wishing to hold his own speech directed at the assembled officer's corps around his table. Feeling his dread increase, Dietrich glances back and forth between the different officers at the table. The calm Captain Boggs, the open minded Lieutenant Carlos, the brutal Lieutenant Griffith, the paranoid Lieutenant Baker, the unreadable General Atkins and his personal corps of officers who have their own respective jobs and assignments. The tense posture of the German speaks of his unease and he almost starts in surprise, as another person takes a seat at his left side. Doctor Andrews smiles his friendly smile from the last days, as he greets the German Captain. "Seems I made it just in time", he whispers with a wink, as the General clears his throat and twirls his moustache about to start his speech.

"I want to introduce you to Captain Hans Dietrich, gentlemen", General Atkins speaks solemnly, as the subject of his introduction straightens his back and puts on a carefully maintained neutral expression. "Some of you may know him as an opponent serving in the German Afrikakorps, while others may have met him only today. The Captain has decided to defect and join our cause against Hitler and his Nazis." Dietrich's expression turns equally dark and fierce as that of many men around the table, especially several members of Boggs' LRDG appear almost murderous including Griffith, Winters and Baker. "I assure you that we have confidence and trust in the Captain's truthfulness and loyalty", General Atkins points out, as Dietrich can feel the stares of almost every person around the table boring into him. Holding his head up high, he meets their gazes with pride and absolute assurance of his own truthfulness.

The Rats look up at the spectacle at the officers' table with unveiled interest. Too far away to hear the General's speech which is only intended for the officers, they have to settle for watching from afar. "Dietrich's making his stand", Troy comments nonchalantly observing the Captain's expression set into proud dignity. Moffit smiles ironically: "And it looks like the dear Captain is trying to stare the whole table into submission." Gottschlich pipes up now: "Do you know Captain Dietrich?" "You could say so", Hitch grins widely, as Tully continues chewing on his match stick with a neutral expression. "Have you met the Captain?", Moffit asks curiously. The young soldier nods enthusiastically. "Yes. In the afternoon. He was really polite and friendly. I wish I would be assigned with him." Now, all four Rats exchange worried glances. "Do you know who the Captain actually is?", Moffit asks cautiously and Gottschlich frowns, as he answers almost too quickly to really have thought this through: "A German officer who defected." With a more despondent tone the young man adds: "He is the first officer who has not looked down on me after hearing the German name." "We're not making fun of you either", Hitch argues, "although we're not officers". "You should mention that we are Dietrich's unit now", Moffit adds dryly enjoying the shocked expressions this reminder draws from the fellow Rats. Serves Troy right for interfering with officers' business, when Jack has clearly warned him not to do so. Gottschlich's eyes widen at the news and he asks frantically: "Do you think I could join you?" Troy interferes with audible irritation: "Listen, kid. You are quite nice and all, but we are desert commandos and our job is far too dangerous for a green soldier like you! The Captain will agree with me."

Meanwhile, Dietrich fights his own fight at the officers' table, as he stoically endures inquiries from all sides appearing friendly on the outside while second-guessing his motives and suspecting him of treason. Lieutenant Griffith and Baker openly express their hostility, while Lieutenant Carlos and Doctor Andrews show their support. Sparring verbally to draw his head out of the noose, the German finds himself all too painfully reminded of German officers' clubs and nights spent arguing about his questioned loyalty. Some feats appear to be too deeply ingrained in humanity to be limited to certain sides.

Jakob uses the ongoing arguments to summon Marcello for the performance. The man is a natural stage artist, Dietrich has to admit, as he observes how the Italian prisoner adapts to the conditions with ease and steps into the mess hall filled with his enemies without even a hint of the tension which has gripped the German's whole body.

"Va, pensiero, sull'ali dorate;
va, ti posa sui clivi, sui colli,
ove olezzano tepide e molli
l'aure dolci del suolo natal!", Marcello sings loudly and with the passion and conviction only an Italian can manage for Verdi's song. All conversations die down, as nobody can scream over the man's trained voice. Many of the American soldiers are astounded by the experience, never having heard this type of music before. Once the Italian opera singer has finished the first aria, he addresses his audience directly: "Signori. Mille grazie. Thank you for letting me sing tonight. Va, pensiero is from 'Nabucco', una opera di Giuseppe Verdi."

"We are not familiar with the Italian opera", General Atkins admits in front of the whole table and Dietrich finds his heart sinking, as he realizes that he will not escape this ordeal unscathed. As much as he has been grateful for the distraction from discussions about his defection and possible double-crossing of his new side, he dreads his involvement even as an interpreter on this particular evening. Looking straight at Dietrich, Marcello pleads: "Il Capitano will support me, for telling you the storia of l'opera and can do la translazione del libretto. My English is not so good for this." The Captain in question is forcing his expression to stay as neutral as before, as his gaze shifts to the General neither pleading nor expectantly, merely awaiting a sign of confirmation.

General Atkins appears actually delighted by the suggestion. "Please go ahead, Captain Dietrich. Start with the opera's plot and then translate the song. I am more than curious to hear what this song is about." Who would have thought that his aristocratic mother's insistence that an officer should shine through knowledge of the arts and classical music as much as through the art of war and combat would ever pay off, as have the two days spent in hospital next to Marcello who has gladly refreshened his memory and deepened the crude superficial information. When Dietrich summarises the plot about the plight of Israelites in Babylonian exile and captivity overshadowed by a plot of love and revenge as must not be amiss in an Italian opera, he realizes more and more that the choice of the performed aria alone could have gotten him and Marcello interrogated by the SS, if they would still have been with the Axis side. Although several of the American officers make faces at some of the more absurd plot instruments of the opera, far less familiar with the classical plot twists of adopted daughters plotting against their adoptive family or rejected women plotting their beloved one's demise in addition to the love triangle they at least know from their Hollywood movies.

The General observes the narrator with a strange twinkle in his eyes, as he requests the translation of the chosen aria. "I am not an opera singer that I would know the libretto of the song by heart to be able to translate it", Dietrich argues and Atkins sees the reason in this statement, but waves the Italian over to their table. "Repeat the first lines of the song, so the Captain can translate it!", he orders the rather surprised Marcello who complies without hesitation. His interpreter is struggling far more, as crudely speaking a language is far different from providing a direct translation. "Fly, my thoughts, on wings of gold;... go settle upon the slopes and the hills, where, soft and mild", the German stops to think of a good formulation. Having to translate between two languages none of which is his native tongue provides an actual challenge which he now realizes is exactly what the General has intended for him. Clenching his jaw in determination, Dietrich doubles his efforts, as he finishes his translation: "... the sweet airs of my native land smell odorously!" By now all eyes are trained on him and he is surprised to hear no strange derisive comments from the Americans which he would have half expected. "Thank you", General Atkins speaks to both, before addressing only Marcello: "Would you repeat the song again. I suppose we can appreciate it differently now."

While the General whispers something in Captain Boggs' ear which is impossible to understand over the chatter at the table, Jakob tells his friend how impressed he actually is. "Deine Mutter wäre stolz auf dich, Hans, eine solche Opernzusammenfassung zu geben. Und du sprichst wirklich gut italienisch." Feeling safer to reply in English with all the suspicions already up against him, Dietrich replies with a slight smirk: "Yes. Who would have thought that my mother's education in arts would help me one day? I do not speak Italian well, but I understand more than I can actively speak actively. Besides Marcello has tormented me with this particular song and opera for hours during our joint captivity." Once, Marcello starts singing again, Silberblatt immediately falls silent, as he listens with relish, having cocked his head slightly and closed his eyes.

Similarly, they introduce the plot of the operas 'Otello', 'Aida' and 'Il barbiere di Siviglia' to the American crowd who appreciate any kind of entertainment as better than none at all just as Jakob has predicted and actually cheer loudly after every song. For the Rats, Moffit takes over the role of the narrator. Although not able to provide a direct translation of the libretto, he has a general knowledge of most of the famous operas, enough to provide a crude summary which leads to discussions with Troy who usually doubts the absurdity of the plot. Unexpected support arrives from Mark Hitchcock's side who has taken his college major in literature and is thus familiar with themes from their literary equivalent, such as Shakespeare's original 'Othello' for Verdi's opera adaptation.

At some point during the evening Fritz drags himself to Dietrich who does not notice him until the dog rather unceremoniously plops himself on his boots and falls asleep immediately. The master of begging for food has been the biggest winner of the evening. Jakob merely smiles bemusedly, as he sees his friend glance under the table at the overfed dog snoring slightly under the table. Although the General does not address them directly, he often enough points in Dietrich's direction to indicate clearly who he is speaking about. Biting down his anger at being displayed like a caged beast, the German almost misses when Doctor Andrews next to him addresses him directly: "I heard there was a story of you, the opera singer and the General." Narrowing his eyes, the Captain whispers back: "Do you think that this is the right place for sharing something like that?" Andrews rethinks the question, before he answers with a smirk: "Maybe limit it to yourself and the opera singer, Captain."

By now, Lieutenant Carlos and Carter have become aware of the exchange and eye them curiously. The two try to listen in, while Dietrich recounts his and Marcello's capture through the Rat Patrol which has landed both Axis officers along with some of their soldiers more dead than alive in an Allied field hospital. There, the Italian has passed his time for two days singing opera arias and sharing his vast knowledge on operas and their most famous arias with the German Captain in the cot next to him. "The Tenente was either singing or chatting happily the whole time", Dietrich comments slightly incredulously even in hindsight. With an almost mischievous smile he adds: "By the time we escaped from the hospital, half the medical staff must have felt like they have been liberated."

Once the German has finished his recount, he realizes that his audience has grown from the doctor and the two officers to half of the table including Captain Boggs and General Atkins who is wearing a thoughtful expression. Once the last aria has been sung and chatters have become rare, Atkins calls both Captains to follow him, as he leads them to the side before addressing the younger one: "Captain Dietrich, I am actually impressed by your grasp of languages. There is a difference in reading an information and experiencing it first hand. Also I am wondering how you learned so much about operas, apart from the two days spent with the Italian Lieutenant." The last part is spoken with an amused smirk. Feeling put to the test again, the German looks briefly exhausted before regaining control of his facial expression to cover his growing fatigue. "My mother, born a baronet of Aweyden, insisted on a classical education even for her military son, not just for her daughter brought up for the nobler circles of German society", Dietrich explains crisply trying to hide the tinge of resentment from his tone. While his mother has invested what little money they have had into his sister's clothing, he has worn handed down clothes from his older cousins for his whole life until joining the military. Both Americans eye the tall and skinny German with a hint of curiosity, but Dietrich is unwilling to reveal more than necessary.

General Atkins finally breaks the awkward silence that has followed the German's statement: "This evening has truly been eye-opening for me. I hope this has demonstrated to you well enough, gentlemen, what we cannot teach an American agent and need somebody of European heritage for, as it has made me realize. I have to thank you again for your decision, Captain Dietrich." Taken slightly aback by the apparently honest display of gratitude, the addressed officer merely nods cautiously. Giving the German a once-over from head to toe, the American General finally states: "You should retire, Captain." Seeing the younger man about to voice a protest merely on principle, adds with a stern tone: "You look dead on your feet already, Dietrich. I almost forgot that you have risen today as a POW, but you can go to bed as an officer of the U.S. army. Get some rest. That is an order!" Not trusting his tired brain fully to give an appropriate answer that would not increase his already large struggle with his new side, the German gives a sharp salute and turns to leave without protest. The tension of the whole evening has worn Dietrich down along with the investigation against his own men and the interrogation through General Atkins. Finally, he is liberated of the ordeal of facing off against the whole American officers' corps. He will only have to maintain his facade until he has reached Jakob's tent.

As he walks out of the mess tent, Dietrich passes by the enlisted men's tables and briefly spots the Rats or rather three of the Rats, as Hitchcock is missing. As if sensing the gaze, Troy looks up and locks eyes with Dietrich. Stopping short at the intensity of the American Sergeant's gaze, the German officer forces himself to continue on his way after a few moments, while Sam Troy whispers briefly to Moffit, gets up and takes a route to intercept the Captain. Both meet at the exit of the mess tent. "Sergeant", Dietrich acknowledges Troy tiredly and warily, wondering what this will be about. "Captain", Troy replies likewise though with less tiredness and exhaustion. "Is there anything you want, Sergeant?", Dietrich sounds irritated at being kept from his well-earned retreat. "Do you know a Corporal Gottschlich?", Troy asks and the question actually takes the German by surprise. "I have briefly met him today. Why do you ask, Sergeant?", Dietrich looks more attentive and frowns at the question. "Because he sat with us all evening and told us his back story 'bout his German grandpa", Dietrich nods knowing this part, "and his Japanese mother. How they interred his whole family." Dietrich looks surprised asking for clarification: "The Japanese interred his family?" "No. The U.S.", Troy growls in annoyance at his own government. "They're all under suspicion since the incident at Pearl Harbor." The German Captain realizes that his notion on politics national and international is rather lacking, as he has never heard of the U.S. putting their own citizens under arrest.

Then, he jumps to the more relevant question: "Sergeant. What does all this have to do with you and me? None of us has any influence on political decisions." Troy smiles wryly. Leave it to Dietrich to be ruthlessly pragmatic. He can only dread the day when the Captain and Moffit start realizing how often their views are aligned and form a permanent alliance in such matters. Shouts from the outside interrupt their discussion and musings, as both turn and run toward the commotion. With adrenaline, battle instincts kick in and both soldiers are equally alert as they arrive at the scene happening between the mess tent and the American latrines. In the darkness of the camp at night, Hitch is involved in a fist fight with a second American Private, while Corporal Gottschlich sits on the ground and presses a hand on his swelling cheek.

"Take the other one!", Dietrich orders Troy, as he trusts an unfamiliar soldier even less to strike out at him than he does the young Private of the Rat Patrol. Without a moment of hesitation the American Sergeant complies grabbing the soldier's right arm which he has raised to strike at Hitch, while Dietrich steps in front of Hitchcock grabs his shirt with his left hand and pushes him backwards with his left arm which leaves the German in the position of having to block an incoming strike with his injured right, if the young Private would choose to attack. Angrily, the German officer shouts for the benefit of both fighting parties: "Stop this immediately!" The tone of the command allows no disobedience. As he finds himself already in a grip, Hitch's opponent ceases all struggle, as does Mark Hitchcock once he has realized who is standing in front of him and gripping his shirt currently.

"What is going on here?", the Captain demands to know with irritation clearly tinging his voice. "That guy attacked the Corporal after harassing him", Hitch states passionately with antipathy for the other man clearly audible in his voice. "That little half-breed should not be serving with us here, but stay in an internment camp where he belongs", the other soldier shouts angrily with a slur that speaks of his drunken state. "Corporal Gottschlich is a member of the army just like you two are!", Dietrich growls angrily almost disbelieving that he has to experience a similar situation to the discussion of the attack on Feldwebel Deutsch for a second time on this very day. "Those ***ing Japs killed our boys at Pearl Harbor!", the soldier growls. "This does not give you the right to choose which soldiers you respect and which to treat like your enemies, Private! Corporal Gottschlich is an American soldier like yourself."

"I don't take orders from a damned kraut officer!", the man slurs and Troy grips him harder. "Enough", Dietrich finally exclaims with a murderous expression on his face. "Put him under arrest, Sergeant, for insubordination, attack against fellow soldiers and disrespecting an officer. This discussion is senseless before he has slept off his inebriation." "Where should I take him? The prisoner's area would not be appropriate", Troy actually asks, as arrests are not his specialty, but both are aware that this task cannot be deligated to either Gottschlich or Hitchcock. "Leave him under guard next to the Nazi sympathizers from the Hitlerjugend. That would be the appropriate company", the Captain growls darkly and Troy actually smirks, as he pushes the drunken soldier along their way rather roughly.

Turning to Hitchcock and finally releasing his grip, Dietrich takes a step back and sighs warily. "What am I goint to do with you, Private?" After all, the German perfectly understands the young man's noble motivation, but cannot let an attack against a fellow soldier go unpunished, as both are aware. After a brief moment of hesitation, a sly expression finds his way to the Captain's face. "You are blocked from scouting duty for the time being to supervise Corporal Gottschlich's integration in the camp. Is that understood, Private Hitchcock?" Although Dietrich keeps his tone similar to the one Hitch has heard often enough, when the Captain has ordered them to be arrested and processed as POWs, Mark is well aware that this is the lightest possible sentence the officer could have come up with, while still keeping up the appearance of not playing favourites or leaving him unpunished. "Use your head and your tongue instead of your fists the next time, Private! You are a college boy after all", the German Captain admonishes in a tone that is stern, but far from truly scathing. "And bring the Corporal to sickbay!", Dietrich adds as an afterthought, as he turns with his head slightly bowed and his exhaustion briefly becomes visible for Hitch. "Aye, Captain. Thank you!", the young man smiles as he crouches next to Gottschlich and helps him to his feet to get him to sickbay.

Finally alone and within the safety of his tent, the German can drop his guard and release the tension which has gripped him the whole evening. The balancing act between Nazi politics, SS persecution and his Fieldmarshal's command as well as his own principles which he has had to perform before his defection has changed to a new kind of struggle which is no less taxing at times. Some events today have shaken him to the core showing him the universal weakness of human nature that he reminds himself to take more care not falling for.

By the time Jakob Silberblatt arrives at their tent an hour later to turn in for the night, he finds his friend asleep although stirring at every sound and muttering barely audibly in a mixture of languages. Crouching next to the young German, Jakob hesitates to actually wake him as the words appear garbled nonsense about the idiocy of politics and discrimination which his friend has definitely been confronted with today, but nothing too worrying or painful to justify waking him from his much needed sleep.

---

The next morning finds Hans Dietrich about early, while his friend grumblingly resents being awakened at all. After the Captain has washed and shaved, he turns to the sickbay to check on all the men there. The two Doctors Andrews and Sommer are still asleep and nurse Hartigan who has been on night shift greets Dietrich who frowns slightly, but otherwise behaves as the distanced, yet perfectly polite gentleman. Besides checking on the Germans and Italians, a new case awaits him, as Corporal Gottschlich has stayed over night after a broken cheekbone and light concussion has been diagnosed. With a frown, the German officer crouches at the side of the sleeping young man's bed and vows to have a word with his attacker. Before leaving, Dietrich finally has his own shoulder wound checked. For the first time in days, somebody considers to have the stitches removed and him picking up exercises to regain the mobility and strength of the limb.

With fresh motivation lightening his step, the German officer returns to pick up his still sleeping friend more than an hour after having gotten up himself. Cursing the early riser, Jakob Silberblatt joins Hans Dietrich with a yawn, not even considering to go washing and shaving before he has had a decent breakfast and a lot of coffee. As they both enter the mess tent before the majority of the camp is even awake, they find only a few people around who are already having breakfast. Among them is a group of four commandos identifiable from afar by their distinctive head gears. At the officers' table, Captain Boggs is finishing his lonesome breakfast. Dietrich turns towards him immediately, while Silberblatt decides that any official business can wait until after his morning coffee. While the two Captains quietly discuss yesterday's row between the enlisted men and the resulting consequences, the young Jewish officer picks up a tray to collect a plate, mug and cutlery. Once finished with his most urgent issue, the German Captain joins Silberblatt at the food serving area.

The young Private handing them their plates looks at both of them curiously. "You've come with the General, Lieutenant, Captain?", he asks hesitantly whether to address the two officers directly. Jakob smiles openly, while his companion puts on a neutral expression wondering, if the man is playing dumb or truly not recognizing him. "I've come with General Atkins. Lieutenant Jakob Silberblatt", the dark-haired officer nods and ignores using a salute as the military greeting to Dietrich's annoyance. Jakob has never been much of a soldier. "Captain Dietrich", the German states briefly and gives a swift salute. The young man's eyes almost pop out of his head upon hearing the name. "I've heard of you. Aren't you Marlene Dietrich's cousin?" Of all the reactions he would have expected, this one has not been among his list. Hans Dietrich is gritting his teeth and shooting a murderous glare in Hitchcock's direction who tries to hide behind Moffit's tall frame, while Jakob Silberblatt is barely able to contain his laughter. "Marlene Dietrich's cousin? You've never told me that, Hans!", he asks, highly bemused where this hilarious rumor has come from, as his companion snaps: "This is just utter nonsense!" "I'm sorry, Captain Dietrich. I didn't mean any harm", the Private stutters, blushing wildly. Reminding himself that this is actually true, Hans Dietrich takes a calming breath and reprimands the younger man in a more moderate tone: "You shouldn't believe everything you hear, Private!" "Yes, Sir!", the young man actually salutes, as the Captain eyes him sternly, before he turns with the intention to sit down at a table.

Captain Boggs has finished his breakfast and left quietly in the meantime, deciding to avoid the commotion involving the young German officer. Without knowing Dietrich for long, he can already predict that there will be many more to come given the man's proud and self-determined attitude and prim military behaviour which makes him stand out like a sore thumb almost as much as his German name does. Boggs has noted by now, if Dietrich has one thing in common with the Rats it is attracting trouble as honey draws flies.

"Let's sit with your new unit", Jakob suggests jovially turning away from the deserted officer's table and Hans Dietrich feels like the world has finally returned to its normal behaviour of piling up anything that could possibly go wrong against him. His Jewish friend however does not even wait for his answer, as Jakob already approaches the foursome. "Gentlemen. May we have a seat with you?", Silberblatt asks politely, while his companion does not wait for a reply, as he puts down the tablet quickly, when his right arm has begun shaking violently from the stress. Troy looks away guiltily, knowing that it has been his bullet which has caused the wound in the Captain's shoulder originally, as a slightly paled Dietrich rubs his sore shoulder with closed eyes to ease the pain. While Jakob observes the scene with a certain amount of worry for his friend, the Rats eye the German Captain's American uniform and appearance with undisguised curiosity.

Once Dietrich has lowered his hand from his shoulder and the natural color has returned to his face, Troy actually dares to address him directly: "Nice uniform, Captain." Too well-trained as a German officer to roll his eyes at the American's ridiculous comment, Dietrich merely states flatly: "Would you mind terribly to let me eat my breakfast in peace, Sergeant?" The question is of course rhetorical and he does not expect an answer, only hoping to silence the whole pack of Rats for the moment. Troy however has no such intention, as he asks directly: "Have you checked on Corporal Gottschlich yet, Captain?" Eyeing him warily, Dietrich replies in a less irritated tone: "As a matter of fact, I have. He has suffered a broken cheekbone and concussion, but will be released within the next few days." Directing his stern gaze toward Hitchcock, he adds: "This saves you from your punishment for the time being, Private." Hitch merely nods in acknowledgement, before remembering to answer with "Yes, Sir!" and adding as an afterthought: "And thank you, Captain."

A few bites of breakfast later and believing that his friend will be less irritated, Jakob actually dares to address Hans Dietrich again. "I have never heard the Marlene Dietrich rumor before. Where does this come from?" The German Captain shoots a withering glare in Hitchcock's direction and merely asks with cocked eyebrows and a tone that makes it perfectly clear that this is an order and not a question: "Would you care to explain this to the Lieutenant, Private Hitchcock?" The young Private gulps down his nervousness, almost swallowing his chewing gum by accident, as he starts his explanation, already regretting thoroughly ever having tried to pull one over on the German Captain who appears definitely resentful in the matter. "You see, Lieutenant Silberblatt, I was chatting with the nurses - Lisa and I go out from time to time", Hitchcock starts his explanation, as Jakob Silberblatt grins in amusement, while Hans Dietrich is fighting hard to keep a neutral expression in the prospect of accumulated American idiocy, "and she told me that the Captain in their sickbay was related to the famous actress Marlene Dietrich, but she and the girls thought he is just too shy to admit it." The Captain in question is summoning every bit of proper education as a German officer to not show any visible reaction to this statement.

"That's actually a smart idea", Jakob initializes his scheming and Dietrich immediately starts to dread what will happen when his over-imaginative friend combines ideas with Troy and his merry gang of miscreants. "It is not!", the German officer intercedes vehemently. "It is absolutely preposterous and bad taste to claim a heritage that is not mine. I am neither a chronic liar nor an impostor, Jakob!" "This is not about claiming celebrity status or giving autographs, Hans. But you should not forget that you are a German officer among Americans and Brits dedicated to fighting and sometimes hating all Germans." Moffit's expression hardens ever so slightly at the accurate description, while Silberblatt continues his argument: "Marlene Dietrich is a staunch supporter of the American troops and well beloved by them. This rumor can help you gain some amount of acceptance and lose the distrust they all have against you automatically, once they hear a German surname", Jakob argues and Dietrich grudgingly has to admit that he has a point with his argument which does not imply that he likes the idea at all.

"What do you think would happen, if I were to play along with this absurd rumor and nourish it, only to find myself accused by the actual Mrs. Dietrich of being an impostor. Wouldn't they be out for my blood after that?", Dietrich spins his scenario in a carefully controlled neutral tone of voice. "How would you or any of the soldiers around here ever meet a Hollywood actress? You're safe, as long as you stay away from California and her stage performances. Or her U.S. army motivational performances back in the U.S. where you have never been in all your life." "Mit solchen Freunden braucht man kein Feinde", Dietrich mutters under his breath sarcastically and Moffit grins, exchanging glances with Silberblatt, before throwing back the Captain's own words at him for the benefit of the whole group: "With friends like that who needs enemies?" For a moment Dietrich looks like he would strangle him, before reining in his temper and facial expression. "So, this is settled then. You don't have to actively distribute the rumor, Hans, just not actively discourage it either. Time and gossip work in your favour", Jakob advises. "This is a completely hair-brained scheme, Jakob. At some point, this is bound to fail and unlike you, I will be right in the center of the impact, when it does", Dietrich snaps indignantly, realizing already that he will lose this argument.

"Still worth the gamble", Jakob comments. "You have always been the gambler, not I", Dietrich holds against him. "True. You have always been the schemer and devious rogue trusting in skill over luck, you only take calculated risks", Jakob throws back. "I can sense some backstory there", Moffit states diplomatically implying curiosity without being overbearing and Jakob Silberblatt immediately indulges his unspoken question. "When we were teenagers, ...", he starts out, only to find himself interrupted by Hans Dietrich: "Exchanging such stories is absolutely inappropriate for an officer, Lieutenant Silberblatt!" Jakob regards his friend's fierce expression. "En contraire, mon ami", the Jewish officer argues, "you need to build a basis of trust with these men. And you can only do this by giving something of yourself." Pride and long-ingrained distrust against his former enemies war against the reason he sees in his friend's advise and the longing for some human connection, now that all ties to his former friends and family from the German side have been severed. Yesterday's events have shown him all too clearly that standing alone against only enemies around him will wear him down far sooner than he would have hoped. Dietrich's internal struggle is clearly visible on his face and Moffit mutters silently under his breath: "Come on, you bloody idiot."

Finally, the German Captain lowers his gaze and breathes out a sigh. "You may be right, Jakob." Jakob grins triumphantly patting him on the left shoulder carefully not to cause his friend's injured shoulder further harm. "As I was saying, it was the early 1930s, we were still attending school and used to be friends with Otto von Freiburg", he starts out, but quickly is interrupted by Dietrich who corrects him with a sarcastic tone: "You were under the delusion of being his friend. I knew I was merely tolerated as a trouble shooter." Jakob smiles defiantly, caught in the nostalgia of the memories. "True enough. I tried to go against the system that would discriminate a Jew everywhere, I thought I could use Otto as my ticket into a society which usually looked down on me, on all of us." All of the Rats share understanding glances, while Hans Dietrich looks truly pained. With a much sadder tone the Jewish Lieutenant adds: "And you were not only the pragmatic realist, but too good a friend to let me go down that road alone." Dietrich averts his eyes at the statement, remaining silent.

Pulling himself together, Lieutenant Silberblatt continues: "We attended some gambling parties with several of the teenagers and university students descended from Germany's high society, German nobility, business owners, many of them later supporters of the Nazis." "You should add that Otto, Graf von Freiburg's oldest son and heir, had the money and the social status to be part of such circles. You were the pretty face with a rich father following the count and usually did not brag about being a Jew", Dietrich adds to the story to which Jakob retorts: "And you were the impoverished son of a baronet and a cavalry officer with the skills and wits to get us both out of the troubles we usually launched ourselves into after too much alcohol." Dietrich ironically raises his eyebrows. "Jakob, a second glass of champagne already was too much alcohol for you." "Just what I was saying, Hans", Jakob Silberblatt replies with a winning smile. The Rats glance at each other, utterly bemused, but also amused by now, as even Tully is showing a grin.

Moffit is mentally taking notes however, looking at the skinny German Captain more intently. From what he has read in his file he would have simply classified Dietrich's family as upper middle class and it would not have occurred to him on his own that in the Germany of the Weimar Republic suffering from economic collapse twice within a time span of fifteen years, a military officer would barely earn enough to feed and clothe his family and a side-line of a noble family without right to inheritance would possess nothing but the memory of a proud heritage. Unlike him who stems from British upper middle class as the son of a university professor, the young German Captain apparently has known poverty and hunger already during his teenage years which gives him some dignified quality in dealing with lack of appropriate food that Moffit has always struggled to find.

"So we usually played Bridge and only switched to poker, when Otto felt up to real gambling", Jakob continues his story in a light tone. "At Bridge one of us would always team up with Hans who has the actual skill in the game. With poker we relied on our own abilities until we needed him as a wild card to either win back our losses or purposefully lose to gain us a victory." "Well, that explains your excellent poker face, Captain. Unless someone violates your code of honor", Troy states amiably. "That typically does not happen during a poker game, Sergeant", Dietrich retorts dryly, not minding the American's grin at the statement. "So that's the story about our gambling history", Dietrich tries to finish the topic, before Jakob decides to share their wilder escapades, but finds himself interrupted by his friend: "What about when you had your bet running against the bullies of the Hitlerjugend?" "That wasn't gambling at all. I was completely confident in my skills", the German snaps back proudly. "You and Otto were the ones betting on me, gambling as usual." "I really need to hear this", Troy is smiling broadly, when he comments, earning himself an irritated glance from the German Captain. "And it was not a bet at all. It was a challenge to be resolved in the old Nordic way!", Dietrich adds with a sly and ironic undertone at the pronunciation of the last five words, daring his friend to continue. "You know that there will be no way of backing out of telling this story with an introduction like this", Moffit tells him with dry amusement. "Besides any story where these Hitlerjugend guys lose must be a good one, after what we have experienced yesterday", Hitch adds his two cents. Even though Dietrich slightly winces at the butchering of the German word, he shares the basic sentiment of the statement.

"Before we start with this story I should add that we were both not on good terms with the youths of the Hitlerjugend", Dietrich states and Jakob snorts in amusement: "That's quite the understatement. They were the junior Nazis in the 1920s and early 1930s, totally antisemitic and totally fanatic." Troy and Moffit exchange glances, as this is a rather unexpected revelation, considering how forgiving both men have acted toward the former Hitlerjugend perpetrators previously who they could have had executed. However, Moffit concedes: "I remember them from when I lived in Munich and went to school there, rather unpleasant fellows. They did not bother me, but were pretty awful to Jewish kids as far as I can remember. What I don't understand is what quarrel you would have had with them, Captain, since you are a proper 'Arier' after all." Dietrich winces slightly at the term, but answers with a darker tone: "This was not about me being harassed, but about my friends." "Me and Sara, my younger sister", Jakob clarifies. "She still considers you her knight in shining armor, Hans." Dietrich merely sighs. "Defending and helping you both was the only honorable thing to do. Also, my father has always insisted that a good officer has to be apolitical and they were always too political for my liking."

"Okay, I get it that you were both enemies of the junior Nazis", Troy summarizes so nonchalantly that Moffit has to grin. "So what about the Viking style bet?", the American Sergeant asks impatiently. "Why Vikings?", Hitch is too curious to hold the question back. Hans Dietrich looks actually bemused. "Our hometown Kiel, the largest German harbor in the Baltic Sea and home of its military fleet, lies in Schleswig-Holstein which has a tradition of Danish inhabitants and changing borders with Denmark. Some of the Nazis who view all Northerners as part of their Arier ideology, look for Nordic traditions to claim their justification of having an age-old right to their racial discrimination. One of our", he evaluates the choice of an appropriate term, as Jakob intercedes, "archenemies had a gang of three boys who would use to harass us, my sister and me." "Navigating the way home from school required strategic planning to avoid them most of the time", Dietrich adds in a fake calm tone. "Luckily we had you the master strategist to work this out on most days" Jakob does not sound mocking at all, but Dietrich narrows his eyes to glare at him feeling mocked nonetheless and snaps: "Let's get to the point, Jakob! I had gathered info on HJ schedules of activities and observed them to go to the meeting hall. That the meeting had been cancelled and the frustrated Hitlerjugend gang searched something or someone to vent their rage on was bad luck not bad planning." The Jewish officer looks honestly taken aback by the outburst, realizing that his friend has perceived his previous statement as sarcasm. "I really did not mean to accuse you in any way, Hans."

Huffing, the German focuses on the recount instead. "Insults were traded as usual and we were really close to starting a fight of three against two in their favour, as the girls would not have fought." "I was never much of a fighter. It would basically have been three against you", Jakob adds chagrined. "I didn't want that to end badly, so I proposed a challenge to settle the quarrel instead. I called it the old Nordic way of the Vikings to bait them, as there never was anything like that in history." Hans Dietrich smiles with amusement. "I knew, but they didn't. Jakob, when already inventing an imaginary challenge, couldn't you have thought of anything less life-threatening than swimming through the Kieler Förde in October?" Jakob looks apologetic: "I had only three things I could think of at the time that I connected with Vikings: fighting with axes, rowing boats and swimming. I thought you would have liked the other options even less." "Indeed", Dietrich comments dryly, "so we managed to persuade them to accept a swimming duel through the bay of Kiel in October." "You what?", Troy sounds incredulous and Moffit raises his eyebrows in equal incredulity. Tully looks slightly astounded by their reaction, European Geography not being his forte in spite of the Captain's description, until Hitch whispers into his ears: "Water must've been freezing cold." Dietrich has picked up on that with keen hearing and adds: "The water was cold, around 10 to 12 degrees Celsius."

"We went in with only our underwear", he then continues the recount and Jakob grins, as he continues: "By that time several youths from the neighbourhood, our school and the Hitlerjugend", the last is said with a derisive tone, "had joined our group to watch the spectacle. Otto was bathing in the masses and started a betting pot right away. All HJ youths of course bet on their champion, so we were obliged to bet on Hans." The German snorts, speaking ironically: "How noble of you. Would you have swum through that bay, if I had not accepted the dare?" "I never doubted that you would accept. Backing down from a challenge and an honorable cause has never been your style. You've always been too chivalrous for your own good." Troy grins, as the Captain's old friend voices his own thoughts. Dietrich does not even look irritated by the statement which summarizes his character excellently, along with the challenge this sometimes poses for him.

"So you really swam through the Förde?", Moffit asks, still incredulous, possibly because his knowledge of German geography and climate definitely surpasses that of the rest of the Rats. "How old were you?", Troy asks curiously. Dietrich and Silberblatt exchange glances, apparently trying to discern the answer to that question. "It was our second before last year in school", Jakob mutters. "So sixteen years", his friend states more clearly. "The folly of youth. I would surely not try this any more." "They were supposed to swim from the fishing harbor in Ellerbek to a landing stage in Wik, a district of Kiel. To have several judges that all would be fair and none would cheat during the swimming challenge by resting somewhere, we used some rowing boats to row along with the swimmers. The only time they would really have had to cross the bay would have been close to the Hörn. The rest of the way was to be swum along the shore line of the city." "At least that is what you thought we would do", Dietrich states with dry irony. "We swam out to cross the Förde diagonally instead where the distance in open water was much larger. I knew that the Schwentine river was flowing into the bay close to where we started and used a direction that kept me away from its cold influx, while my opponent made the mistake of choosing the more direct direction swimming straight into the colder waters with more currents to struggle against." "The HJ Jungens couldn't believe it when their guy started to sink and call for their help, while our champion just swam off", Jakob grins at the memory, as Dietrich scowls. "I didn't know my opponent's fate though, as they kept rowing after me in boats shouting to continue. I thought him close behind me at all times." "Let me guess, you made it to that other side simply out of stubbornness", Troy grins as well, but Dietrich's expression becomes slightly darker. "You could say so, Sergeant. I barely made it to the shore at all, before collapsing on one of the harbor steps and passing out."

"Never before had I been so scared in my life", Jakob adds sadly. "You were pale as death and icy cold like a corpse. Sara, Lisel and I dragged you back to my family's home which was the closest, wrapped in whatever clothes we did not need ourselves." "Let me guess. Otto was collecting his gambling winnings from the HJ in the meantime", Dietrich spits with venom, making it obvious that there is no love lost between him and Otto von Freiburg. "What else did you expect of him", Jakob says ruefully, before adding with a twinkle of mischief returning to his eyes: "It was the winning of a life time after all. Everyone bet against you except for us. Erich was a head taller and a lot beefier than you after all." "It is good, I spent too much time trading insults with Erich to care about your side business. You would truly have boosted my confidence, Jakob", Dietrich states with dry sarcasm. Silberblatt looks slightly guilty, before he continues the story: "Well. It took a long hot bath and a few hours in front of the warmest tiled stove wrapped in any blanket we had in our house to get him back on his feet again." "During which time your father gave me lecture on hypothermia that would qualify me to become a field medic in Russia", Dietrich adds dryly. "Joining the Navy was definitely out of question after that experience." To everyone's surprise it is Tully who answers: "I can feel with you, Capt'n. Hate water as well. Almost drowned in the well we used to get water for brewing our moonshine from." Hitch, Moffit and Troy stare at him in surprise, hardly ever having heard that much of personal story telling from the usually silent private.

"Still waters run deep", Moffit comments dryly. "Apparently, this story telling idea of yours, Lieutenant Silberblatt, is actually working in miraculous ways. What would you say, Troy, old man. Shouldn't we participate as well? Since we have the time." The American Sergeant actually looks eager enough. Jakob Silberblatt exchanges a glance with Hans Dietrich who gives an almost imperceptible nod of appreciation. "So, have you two gentlemen ever been to Munich?", Moffit addresses the two Germans from Kiel who both answer in the negative. "None of you are familiar with the Hofbräuhaus, the Pinakothek or Schloss Nymphenburg then", the British scholar sighs dramatically. "Well, how about Cairo?" The Captain merely raises his eyebrows, as all others remain silent. "Of course, I was in Cairo, Doctor." "But that must have been before the war", Moffit considers. "Yes, but the German archeological society had its head quarters there and my uncle started any of the expeditions organised for them from Cairo." Moffit looks curious now, while the others seem rather bored. "Maybe you can have your archaeology talk in private, now that you finally have found somebody interested in that topic, Jack?", Troy snaps, while Dietrich merely raises his eyebrows in surprise at the sharp tone. "Don't you have some interesting story to share from all these dig sites, Doc? Something like the curse of the mummy?", Hitch asks with honest curiosity. "There is no such curse and there never has been one", Moffit states rather indignantly, while the German Captain looks quite amused.

"But I could share with you the story of how some scarabs saved my life", Moffit finally relents. "What's a scarab?", Troy asks. "The more vulgar name of scarabaeus sacer, one of the most commonly depicted animals in ancient Egypt, is dung beetle", Moffit applies his best lecturer voice. "It's a bug digging in the muck? And these Egyptians prayed to it?", Troy sounds rather incredulous and Hitch asks with irony and good humor: "So if Tully starts digging guys from the muck more often, should he start praying to the dung beetle?" While the two Germans exchange highly amused glances, Moffit mutters in exasperation: "God save me from the illiterates!" Tully shifts his matchstick meanwhile and mutters under his breath: "Crazy Egyptians."

"Scarabs, Doctor? Wouldn't ushabtis have been more practical?", Dietrich asks dryly finally taking some pity on the British scholar, which earns him a grateful grin from Moffit and an annoyed exclamation from Troy. "You two start cracking inside jokes on some Egyptian mumbo jumbo now?" "If you could put some effort into listening, I'd be glad to introduce you to ancient history, old man", Moffit smiles with irony. "It would cure you of the delusion that Hollywood is the height of cultural development", the German Captain adds dryly. "Say that again loud, when this mess hall's full and you have an entire mob out for your blood, Captain!", Troy retorts stubbornly. "Is this supposed to disprove my statement or simply discourage its utterance?", Dietrich looks utterly unperturbed after years of serving under a government and military superiors where the wrong word at the wrong time could earn an arrest or execution.

"It was actually the live version of scarabs not the omnipresent artifacts that saved me", Moffit resumes his tale stopping the banter. "I was looking at a relief in a newly dug out site, when the scaffold holding me broke down and with it part of the ceiling caved in." By now, he has the serious attention of his whole audience back. "After the cave-in, I found myself alone in the dark. My torch had fortunately not gone out, but was lying on the ground nearby, shining some light into a random direction which ended with accumulated rubble. Except for a scraped knee, I had not been hurt, but the shock of being all alone in the dark with no obvious way out was the much graver injury", the Brit spins his tale. "I was rather stunned, as you can imagine, especially when I saw shades moving around me. Briefly, I considered whether those superstitious rumors that have spread in the past years since Howard Carter's discovery of the tomb of Tutankhamun actually could hold any kind of truth." Leaving a dramatic pause and his listeners in suspense, he watches their faces. Hitch seems utterly captivated, as is Jakob Silberblatt and even Troy looks attentive in spite of himself. Tully keeps the same non-committed expression he usually wears, when paying attention without wishing to be seen doing so, while Captain Dietrich observes him with guarded curiosity. Of all his listeners, Moffit realizes, he is the one with the closest experiences to his own to actually imagine the scene properly.

"Then, my rational mind regained control", Moffit continues, "but I realized that I was trapped in all directions. I would not have known in which direction to start working my way out and shouting for help, if not for my wee friends, the scarabs." Hitch eyes him with open curiosity and Tully chews his matchstick listening intently. "I picked up a pole from the scaffolding and used it as a lever to move some of the rubble. It did not free me really, but the noise caught the attention of the men on the other side and they increased their efforts to free me. I hardly ever have seen my father so openly happy to see me." "I can imagine", Troy grins. "I would have boxed your ears though for such a stunt, if I were him." "My father is a gentleman. Such behaviour is beneath him", Moffit retorts dryly.

"Reminds me of the time, when me and David stole our old man's car and drove off to meet some girls in town", the American Sergeant reminisces with a thousand yards stare. "It was right in prohibition times. There was no alcohol to be bought legally unlike at your fancy champagne parties", he laughs, good-naturedly winking at the two Germans. "But they don't have good moonshiners only in Kentucky, eh, Tully?" The former moonshine runner sports a grin. "We got ourselves a bottle-full of that stuff and went off with our girls to the plateau. David had some romantic notion about watching the sunset. By the time we drove back, he was actually too drunk to make it back in one piece, so I took over and crashed the car right into our paddock. We spent the next day catching the horses and the day after resting our buttocks from the thrashing we received." Sporting a grin with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, Troy adds. "But it was totally worth it, especially for the girls." Hitch smiles with a dreamy expression totally sharing his sentiment.

Fritz runs up to their table barking happily and placing his front paws on the Captain's chair. "Fritz, you are losing your touch, arriving after we finished our breakfast", Dietrich comments with amusement, as he pets the dog's head affectionately. "Hey Fritz. Here!", Hitch calls out holding a piece of sausage he has saved for the occasion. Raising his eyebrows, as he observes the interaction, Dietrich finally asks: "So what is the story behind your obsession with this dog?" "Be careful what you ask, Captain, you might not like the answer", Moffit mutters an advice. But Hitch is only too happy to share this. "Well, my family's always had dogs, even though we lived in Manhattan. Ducky was my favourite. I used to take him out in Central Park and he went off hunting the ducks, thus the name." Troy looks utterly baffled: "Your family must've been really rich to live there." "You know that Ivy League colleges are not cheap to afford, don't you, Sarge?", Hitch asks rhetorically with a hint of amusement. "What would I know about college", Troy counters with good-natured humor.

Fritz' joyful yelp reminds them of the original topic of the story. "Well, back to Fritz. When we went out to take over that tank and make our way into your base", Dietrich merely closes his eyes briefly and takes a deep calming breath, "this little fellow was around following us, wanting to play. I mean look at his eyes. It was love at first sight", Hitch exclaims while scratching Fritz behind the ears, as the fig pants happily and eyes Hitch with big brown eyes. "Jerries started firing at us and somehow poor Fritz was stuck somewhere, yelping in such a heart-wrenching way, scared half to death, poor guy, that I just couldn't stand it any more." Fritz recognizes his name and yelps happily, as he receives his cuddles, not minding at all to be in the center of the story.

"Let me guess", the German states dryly, "you could not resist your bleeding heart and went out to help the dog." "That's exactly what I did", Hitch confirms. "I even got shot through the leg for my troubles." Pulling up his trousers leg he shows the scar to all those interested or not. "You got yourself shot because of a whining dog?", Dietrich asks incredulously. "I couldn't just continue to listen without doing something." "Neither could I, when the dog and my Private where lying and whining out there", Troy added to the story. "'If you want a job done properly, you do it yourself, Sam', my old man used to say and right he was!" Seeing Dietrich's expression shift between incredulity and amusement, Jack Moffit adds: "He did indeed go out there and saved the dog before his Private. Sentimental fools!" "It must feel like the nine circles of hell for you at times", the German Captain states sarcastically. Recognizing the reference to Dante's Inferno, Moffit retorts with equal sarcasm: "I thought, if anyone could share the sentiment of the Inferno one has to suffer with them, it would be you, Captain." The remaining Rats merely grin, as Dietrich's bears long-suffering expression and sighs wearily, while Jakob pats his friend on the shoulder. "They can't be that bad." "They're even worse", follows the laconic reply.

"May I ask you something, Captain, Lieutenant?", Moffit addresses Dietrich cautiously and the German cocks his head to regard him with creased brows, while Silberblatt smiles openly. "You both mentioned that at some point you", he nods in the German Captain's direction, "helped him", he points at the Lieutenant, "and his family to escape from Germany. How did that happen?" Jakob and Hans exchange a brief glance, before the Jewish officer starts. "I suppose you are aware of the event of the Reichskristallnacht in Germany and Austria?" As Dietrich schools his face from shame-filled into a neutral expression, Silberblatt looks from one Rat to the other. While Moffit bears a dark expression knowing fully well what the word means, the other three seem more confused. German history before the start of the war is none of Troy's, Hitch's and Tully's forte.

"In the night from the nineth to the tenth of November 1938, the Nazis called their followers to turn against all Jews in all of Germany", Jakob finally starts the recount and the underlying emotions of anger, sadness and pain tinge his voice. "They had constructed some mad tale of taking revenge for the murder of a Nazi delegate in France through a Jew and many, too many followed them." Dietrich has closed his eyes while listening to his friend's words, his expression carefully kept neutral. "The SS went out on the streets like the armed political militia they actually are and along with thousands of Nazi sympathizers in all major cities and many smaller villages raided and destroyed shops, attacked families in their flats and houses and burnt down synagogues. It was ... horrible, like the apocalypse. We were so afraid." Jakob Silberblatt's eyes appear glazed over, as he is reliving the memories from the event four years earlier. "Sara was screaming in fear and crying the whole time, until father decided that we abandon our flat to save our lives. Your uncle Heinz gave us shelter and hid us from the SS. Lisel held Sara during the whole night to give her the feeling of safety. Meanwhile, the hordes plundered our home, destroyed my father's doctor's practice and burnt down our synagogue in Kiel. We were lucky not to be at home, as early on the next day they came with a warrant of arrest for me, 'for my own protection' to send me to one of their concentration camps. We did not know what to do and asked uncle Heinz for help again. He called Hans who arrived two days later with false papers and tickets for a ship to England. You never told us how you came by all this." "Telling you could have cost the Wolf family and me our lives, Jakob", Dietrich counters with a slightly strangled voice. "As they are dead and you have been sentenced to death by the SS, there is no harm in telling me now, is there?", Jakob retorts pleadingly.

Closing his eyes briefly, Dietrich takes a deep breath before starting an answer: "After Onkel Heinz called me, I requested a leave from my base in Weimar for 'an urgent family matter'. Nobody doubted me, as a reliable Leutnant I already had a reputation, and I was granted the leave within two hours. I went straight to Berlin after calling Otto, yes our dear friend Otto", his voice is dripping with bitter sarcasm at the mention of Otto von Freiburg. "How did you get him to help you?", Jakob sounds and looks incredulous, as his friend spits out contemptuously. "Otto has only ever cared about himself. I reminded him of some of his dirtier secrets we have been aware of that could seriously have affected his standing in Berlin to affirm his cooperation." "You blackmailed him?", Jakob stutters in disbelief. "I strategically applied the right amount of leverage on the right person at the appropriate time", the Captain carefully formulates his response which makes Moffit, Troy and Hitch grin in spite of the dire circumstances of the tale. "Otto provided me with the forged documents freshly uttered from Berlin's government agency for passports and the tickets for the ship." As an afterthought, Dietrich adds with a smirk: "And he might have added that he never wishes to be bothered by any of us again. I am afraid you will have to continue living without his friendship." Jakob is actually laughing in relief, as tears run down his face. "Thank you!", he manages after some time, when he regains control over his emotions. "You shouldn't thank me. That's what friends are for", the German admonishes with a scowl. "Risking your career and potential arrest is more than we could ever have asked of you", Silberblatt utters guiltily to which Dietrich replies sharply: "Jakob, don't be ridiculous! I would have been imprisoned, interrogated and eventually released under pressure from my father and uncle, but you would be dead, if they had arrested you, as your family would be!"

Looking between the unlikely pair of friends, Sam Troy starts to understand what kind of risk this tale has involved for both of them. They have just learned more about Nazi Germany and its inhabitants than he would have cared to know, but also about the two young officers, both born and raised in Germany and both serving in the U.S. army under very different circumstances now. "I've always known you're a good and honorable man, Captain. Just didn't realize to what extent", the American Sergeant finally manages to formulate his thoughts. While Dietrich scowls at him, Moffit smiles at both their predictable reactions. "You sure are, Cap", Hitch intones and this time, Dietrich is not too preoccupied to notice the butchered rank and actually admonishes the Private: "In spite of all this story telling, I do appreciate usage of a full rank title, Private Hitchcock!" "You didn't mind before", Hitch complains with a stubbornness that reminds far too much of his idol Sam Troy. "I was too preoccupied with being half dead or looking after my possibly mortally wounded Sergeant before", Dietrich snaps. "Besides that, it should not even be a matter of discussion to use a full rank title. I understand your show of disrespect and disobedience, but I won't tolerate it."

All four members of the Rat Patrol stare at him now, until Troy finally speaks up: "Captain. I think there is a grave misunderstanding happening here. Apparently, we're so used to you knowing stuff about American culture that we just never considered that you wouldn't know or misinterpret this." Dietrich's eyes have narrowed by now and his expression clearly communicates his wariness. "Using the shortened version of the rank title is neither meant as disrespect nor disobedience, rather a certain familiarity and", Troy searches for the proper word, when Hitch helps him out: "friendly respect as opposed to the distanced respect we have for officers like General Atkins or Captain Boggs. But we call them", he points at Troy and Moffit, "'Sarge' and 'Doc' all the time and it's not lack of respect." Tully nods in agreement biting down on his matchstick. "I have heard that often enough to believe you, Private", Dietrich says carefully, still looking puzzled, "but I fail to see the reason behind your application of the practice with respect to my person. We certainly have no 'familiarity' or anything but distanced respect at best for each other."

"That's not true. We have some distanced respect for First Lieutenant Winters who made us dig a trench for a second latrine right next to the existing one only to have us put the sand back in afterwards", Hitch protests. "Chickenshit", Troy growls indignantly, while Dietrich actually looks confused now. "Why would any officer in their right mind have you do this? Wasting troops' resources in such a way is absurd." "It's absurd for you, but not for our guys", Hitch argues back. "That's why I never wanted to join the brass. Too many idiots", Troy growls while looking around who could overhear his talk of insubordination. "You will understand that I have to abstain from affirmation or such a statement, Sergeant", the German formulates in the same careful manner that Troy has learned now is his survival mechanism for dealing with immoral and idiotic authorities. "None of our brass would have gotten their hands dirty with muck fresh from the latrine to check the life signs of an enlisted man", Hitch adds to his previous argument. "By our standards, you are a really good guy for an officer." "Your standards must be truly low, Private, if someone who has arrested you, shot you and sentenced you to death ranks higher than your own officers", Dietrich snaps sarcastically reminding them of just what their past entails as well. "You're one of our own officers now and you've always been fair and square with us, Captain", Troy intercedes. "We honor that and know what your previous job has entailed without considering it personal." Feeling as much confronted with absurdity as usual when dealing with the Rats, the German merely shakes his head in disbelief. Jakob who has finally regained his footing after his wearing story decides to intercede: "You should not doubt everything coming from them." "I have spent the better part of a year doubting anything coming from them except for bullets and grenades", his friend retorts sharply. "I cannot just turn my back on that and forget everything that was said and done."

"Dum inter homines sumus colamus humanitatem", Moffit cites in Latin and everybody simply stares at him in confusion. "While we are among humans, we should look after humankind", the Cambridge scholar translates for all their benefits. "The Roman philosopher Seneca wrote this in 'De Ira', but I suppose it fits our current dilemma rather well. We have all been cast into this war and stood by our respective positions. We have all gone out after every truce and temporary cooperation only to return to firing bullets at each other the next time we met. For some of us, this comes easier", his gaze falls on Tully who continues to chew on his matchstick with a neutral expression, "while others have struggled more with their humanitarian principles." Staring directly at Dietrich now who looks more thoughtful than angry, the English scholar meets the German's eye directly and without insecurity. Their staring duel is not interrupted by the other Rats or Jakob Silberblatt, but by shouts from outside in the camp. All five battle-ready soldiers are on their feet immediately and already half-ways toward the tent entrance, as Jakob Silberblatt still wonders what is happening.