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!)

27. Leaden Skies

Something wet, warm and quite rough on his face wakes Hans Dietrich with a start, only to find Fritz half-lying on his chest, licking his face with delight. When the little dog sees him move, it pushes the tip of its snout against his chin in an appreciative manner, before continuing to lick the young man's chin and cheeks. "Fritz, aus! Runter!", the Captain orders with a strict tone, once he has recovered enough from being brought to wakefulness like this. Although the dog's eyes hold a saddened look, Fritz obeys immediately and jumps off the bed under which he walks a few circles until curling up.

A soft chuckle reveals the true culprit of this episode to the German officer who pushes himself into a sitting position with a groan of pain. "Troy. Why am I not surprised?", Dietrich states dryly when he finds the Sergeant grinning from ear to ear. "I told you I would find something better to get back at you for the tea tirade", Sam Troy murmurs with his mirth clearly audible in his voice. "Didn't you swear to me only yesterday that you would refrain from pranking your officers?", the German Captain asks dryly. "This includes me!" "We swore to not make it a habit, Captain, and we won't. But this was just a single time payback, 'tit for tat', as you said. I forgot the Latin mumbo jumbo", Troy replies with a smile.

Grumbling about American idiocy, Dietrich sits up completely and with another groan rubs his eyes with his knuckles. The improved mobility through the massage treatment allows him to lift even his right arm up to eye level, but it still hurts incredibly. Troy eyes the lean German with less mirth than actual concern now that he can see his torso up close. Most of the bruises from his SS torture have finally faded completely or to a lighter brown colour and even the ones from Griffiths' rough welcome have mostly discolored, while the large fresh bruise on the younger man's shoulder looks black and ugly. This makes the scars from the burns, countless shrapnel splinters and the bullets that Troy himself has fired at the German's right shoulder and chest twice in their enemy times stand out more clearly in contrast against the Captain's suntanned skin. The American's intention has never been to kill the German officer, but rather to render him unable to fight. Shooting at the side of his main arm has held the added bonus of not hitting his heart accidentally. But the painful reminder of their enmity leaves a bad taste in his mouth now.

As the November morning is quite chilly, even in the sickbay tent, a light shiver runs down the lean German's body and goosebumps rise on his arms. "Get into that! I also don't want to add you freezing to death to my list of things to worry about", Sam Troy orders with the tone that sounds exactly like Moffit has described it in their discussion yesterday, the older brother worrying and fussing. "You know you have a younger brother of your own who you can fuss over", the German Captain replies dryly, but lets the Sergeant help him into his shirt sleeve, actually grateful for the support. "Let's not talk about David, that backstabbing, self-serving adulterer!", Sam Troy growls with anger edged into his tone. "As you wish, Sergeant. At some point however you should talk to him reasonably to free yourself from all this", Dietrich replies with a moderate and sympathetic tone, as he stands up from the field bed.

Closing his eyes briefly and taking a few deep breaths to steady himself against the lightheadedness and dizziness, the tall German officer does not notice the American Sergeant staring at his right leg. The Captain has repeatedly reminded Troy of the reason for this particular injury. But until now the American Sergeant has not had the chance to see how badly he has struck the younger officer when he has shot him down in spite of holding a white flag that Sam has realised too late has not been a weapon. Although it is just a graze of their .50 caliber, the outer part of the German's thigh has been torn open which has resulted in Dietrich losing enough blood within a mere fifteen minutes to lose consciousness and barely making it to the closest field hospital alive in spite of the pressure bandage and Hitch driving as if the devil himself was on his heels, when Troy has constantly urged him onwards in hope to save the dying Captain and not bear the responsibility and guilt for his untimely death. Realisation hits the American that the young officer is indeed more forgiving, decent and humane than Sam Troy himself to have agreed to all his suggestions and even given him a probation for friendship in spite of their past, while the American Sergeant cannot even muster the wish to forgive his own brother. It truly bugs Sam, not out of jealousy, but out of knowledge that the Captain is not only right but also cares, when he advises him to let go for his own sake.

"I need to get washed", Dietrich declares in a tone that does not allow any room for discussion. After having been drenched by Fritz, this is among his highest priorities. "I even brought you a fresh uniform", Troy holds the pack of clothes out to the Captain as a form of peace offer. "You seem to spend more time in my tent picking up my clothes than I do, Sergeant", the tall officer comments dryly, as he takes the offered clothes, before adding in a more moderate tone expressing actual gratitude: "Thank you, Troy." Stalking toward the latrines and showers without caring about what other mischief the unnerving American might be planning, the German is relieved to find a few undisturbed minutes to get washed, shaved, showered and dressed.

When Hans Dietrich returns to the sickbay, he finds Troy involved in a heated discussion with Jack Moffit that also stirs the other patients in the officer's ward awake. Ari must have been awake already, but has hidden underneath his blanket until seeing his protector return, as he jumps up to run towards his 'brother' still half-wrapped in the large cloth and nestles against the tall officer. "*I'm scared, Hans*", the boy tells his caregiver with a slightly trembling voice. "*Troy or Moffit would never harm you*", the German tries to reassure the scared child, patting his head gently. "*But they shout. People only shout, when they are angry*", Ari explains his childish logic. "*They are angry with each other. That does not mean that they are angry with you or would harm you, Ari*", the German Captain tries to calm the shivering boy who still keeps his arms wrapped around his waist and presses his face into the officer's fresh shirt. Guiding the child along with him, Dietrich approaches the two squabblers with a furious expression and snaps: "Silence. Both of you!"

Too surprised at the interruption to put up immediate resistance, Troy and Moffit turn toward him. When the American Sergeant sees the scared child nestled to the German officer, he blushes immediately. "Sorry. I ... I didn't mean to scare ... him, the kid", he stammers slightly embarrassed and truly ashamed to have caused the Jewish boy to panic. Moffit appears more controlled. But after a brief dark look passes over the British Sergeant's features, he also appears flustered. "Forgive me, Captain", he first addresses the young German, then turns to the shivering boy: "*I am sorry, Ari, if we scared you. Troy and I would never hurt you.*" Dietrich bends his knee to crouch at the boy's side. "*You see? I told you they did not mean you any harm.*" Ari wraps his arms around the young man's neck and whispers: "*Thank you!*" Wincing slightly at the tight grip around his neck, the German mutters: "*I promised you I would protect you. You don't have to worry.*" Meeting eyes with Jack Moffit, the Captain nods almost imperceptibly and the British scholar returns the gesture similarly, then guides Troy to the side. "What did you all say?", the American Sergeant demands an answer from Moffit who provides him with a summarized translation.

Nurse Regula finally frees the German Captain from his predicament of not wishing to leave the boy alone, but not knowing how to console him or to make him stay in the safety of the sickbay either. Although she speaks in her Swiss German and accented English, she has an excellent way of calming the scared child through her intonation and gentle contact in itself. "What did you two have to quarrel about like two misbehaved children?", Dietrich growls at the duo with some annoyance. Troy and Moffit exchange glances that tell the Captain immediately that this involves him somehow. Putting his hands on his hips, he faces them with a stern gaze. "How does your squabble involve me?" "What makes you think this involves you?", Troy asks stubbornly. The German glares at him. "Do you take me for an idiot, Troy? If this did not involve me or something you are hesitant to tell me, you wouldn't exchange glances, but tell me right away. You are wonderfully direct and predictable in this way." "Jerry smartass", the American Sergeant mutters in slightly wounded pride. "You decided to call him 'Captain Sherlock'. You shouldn't complain, when he's living up to that nickname, old boy", Jack Moffit admonishes him dryly. "Indeed, Troy. You have called this upon yourself" Dietrich decides to side with Moffit. If he cannot make the spread of Troy's ridiculous nicknames undone, he can at least apply them to annoy the totally deserving Sergeant in return in appropriate moments such as this one.

"Weh die Geister, die ich rief", the German adds the proverb for good measure. "Stop cursing me in German, Dietrich!", Troy snaps in annoyance, while Jack Moffit smiles in immediate recognition. "You're wronging our dear Captain, as he did no such thing as curse you. The phrase is a warning that has become a proverb, although it stems originally from Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's wonderful ballad about the Sorcerer's apprentice who summoned a broom to perform his works, only to lose control and almost destroying his master's house and being killed himself. It warns to beware the spirits you called upon yourself." Dietrich meets his eyes and nods with a grateful expression, when he adds with slight irony: "Thank you for the lecture, Doctor." Troy bears a look between annoyance and confusion. "Sorry for suspecting you, Captain." With dark irony, the German applies Troy's own words. "It happens to the best of us." Both Troy and Moffit smile slightly at the memory. How far has their situation changed since the first days of the Captain on their side and their constant struggle against his wariness and distrust.

"What we were quarreling about falls in the category of stuff for which your warning actually applies, unnecessary discussions about what we can't change anyways", the Americans replies. "We discussed that the social dynamics of our unit has changed, a lot even. I have informed Troy about my decision to stay with the unit and under your command nonetheless, Captain Dietrich", Jack Moffit informs him in a matter-of-fact manner. "What the hell did you have to think about, Jack? That's not a serious question!", Troy growls, returning almost immediately to his previous quarrel, as if it has not been interrupted. "It is a valid question, Sergeant Troy. And not Doctor Moffit, but I was the person to pose the question", Dietrich interferes sternly. "You have never bothered to ask what your fellow unit members have thought of your intervention that has backfired spectacularly with making me your CO. I am under the impression that Pettigrew and Hithcock do not have severe problems with the change of dynamics or rather they have not even noticed them yet, if Pettigrew cares about such things at all. You would be too bull-headed to acknowledge any problems of your own anyways, Sergeant. So asking for Sergeant Moffit's opinion who has been present to warn you only to find himself ignored and been rather discontent with the developments of the last days has been the reasonable approach." Troy glares at Dietrich's assessment of his stubbornness, but his gaze becomes almost as appraising as Moffit's at the end of the statement.

"You know, Captain. I never thought that having some brass around all the time to give me orders and take away my freedom to make my own decisions would actually be something I could live with. But you're probably the best CO I could possibly have and it actually works for me." "Don't pretend to follow orders more often than half of the time, Sergeant", the German Captain counters dryly which makes Troy scowl and Moffit grin at the accurate assessment. "When I don't do it immediately, I discuss the stuff with you. Turns out you know pretty well what you're doing and why, which makes it acceptable to follow the order after all, unlike Boggs' usual orders which we got in advance. Usually they were already partially useless by the time we met the enemy. And when I needed you to listen to a suggestion, you also have done so." Dietrich has narrowed his eyes in slight wariness, before speaking with a baffled tone: "You're actually serious, Troy, aren't you?" Moffit understands the German's attitude perfectly, as he feels equally perplexed by the announcement having known Troy for the better part of a year. In a million years it would not have occurred to Troy to say something like this to Boggs, although he respects the American Captain of their unit in his own way. But not only do Dietrich and Troy know ten times more about the actual menial tasks and small complication of serving in a frontline unit, they also hold a genuine sympathy for each other. The American's inexplicable sympathy for the German has been obvious for a long time before his defection and has become overbearing not just for Dietrich since his change of sides. But the Captain also has agreed to their strange deal of a probation of friendship and actually lives up to this challenge with admirable dedication Jack assesses.

Nurse Westwood reminds the sickbay's inhabitants of the available breakfast. Fritz immediately jumps to his feet at the promising sounds and prepares to dash off toward the nurses' table, when the German's command "Fritz, sitz und bleib!" binds him to sit at the man's side. Simultaneously, Troy's stomach starts growling at the reminder of his hunger, as Fritz presses his nose against Dietrich's leg with a desperate whine. With a sigh the lean officer declares: "We'd better leave you to your breakfast, before any of those two gets funny ideas like raiding the nurses' table." Troy grins: "Brilliant idea, Captain." "It is for protecting the sickbay from this ever hungry little critter and his favourite accomplice", the German officer comments dryly. "I'm pretty sure Hitch is his favourite accomplice", Troy laughs. "And fortunately out of criminal business for the moment", the Captain counters. "Which leaves only you as destructive influence, Sergeant." "Well. It's jolly good we have you as a favourable influence then to counter this, Captain", Moffit comments just as dryly, "lest chaos rules." "As usual in Troy's wake", the German completes dryly. "Fortunately, I have a year of experience cleaning up the mess he has left behind without looking back." "You two stop plotting and scheming against honest soldiers. You're even more insufferable smartasses than usual, when you're hungry." "I'd say the condition here is that you're hungry rather than we're hungry. Wouldn't you agree, Doctor?", Dietrich argues slyly. "Excellently pointed out, my dear Holmes", Moffit confirms dryly. Scowling briefly at the reference, the young German sighs. "We'd better get going. Enjoy your breakfast, Doctor." "Well done, Jack", Troy comments with a grin, then turns to follow Dietrich who already has Fritz close at his heels. "Don't forget to return for your exercises after breakfast, Herr Hauptmann", the Swiss nurse Regula tells the Captain, as he leaves the tent. "Of course, Schwester Regula."

"Geh und hol dir Futter, Fritz!", Dietrich orders the dog, when they approach the mess tent. Not requiring to be told twice that he should go and get himself some food, the little dog dashes off with a joyous yelp. "I would give you the same order, if you could understand it, Sergeant", the German officer adds dryly. "What did you tell him to make the little bugger so happy?", Troy inquires. "Go and get yourself some food." The American Sergeant grins at the answer. "That would indeed make me just as happy as our dear Fritz." "Don't let me keep you from achieving happiness through indulging in a good breakfast, Troy!", the German Captain comments dryly. "I'll get it, as soon as I have taken care of you, Captain." "I'm perfectly capable of carrying a plate and some cutlery myself", the German snaps with slightly wounded pride to be taken for an invalid in constant need of support. "And what about water and some coffee to go with that? I'll help you, until you can properly carry your stuff and that's not open for discussion!" The proud young officer bites back an automatic growl and pulls himself together to stay true to their arrangement. "If it makes you happy, Sergeant", he finally answers wearily. "It does", Troy grins and leads their way into the tent.

"Pettigrew. You're responsible for the disappearance of my whiskey! I just know it", First Lieutenant Winters sputters with a red head towering over Tully who has never even risen from his place at the enlisted men's table. Dietrich exchanges a grim look with Sam Troy at his side, before the German addresses the angered officer in a cool tone: "Lieutenant Winters. Do you have any evidence connecting Private Pettigrew with the accusation that you have just voiced against him?" The American Lieutenant whirls around in surprise, as he finds the tall Captain stalking toward him to position himself at the side of his Private. "I don't have any evidence. Even the bottle disappeared, Captain", the older American officer answers, although he tries to hold back his anger in front of the higher ranking officer. "What is your reason for accusing Private Pettigrew then?", Dietrich inquires calmly without giving anything away, while Troy and Tully exchange impressed looks behind his back.

Winters focuses his furious glare on the Private, before he spits out angrily: "This goddamned criminal has already done this once. And everyone in camp knows he was a moonshiner. It's obvious he has to be the culprit." The German Captain looks utterly unimpressed by the line of accusations. "I am convinced that half the soldiers in this camp, including the British and Australian ones have at some point in their lives consumed whiskey of a not completely legal source. Would you wish to consider them as potential culprits as well for good measure, Lieutenant?", Dietrich asks sarcastically. Winters stares at the tall lean German speechlessly for a few moments.

By now the whole canteen tent has fallen silent and is observing the standoff between the two officers. "Unless you can produce any clear evidence that points to Private Pettigrew specifically, I advise you to refrain from any unfounded accusations", the German Captain orders sternly. Glaring at the Private one more time for good measure, the Lieutenant growls: "There is no evidence left." Dietrich assesses him coolly: "Then there is nobody you can accuse, as I am under the impression that the United States are still a country that respects the rights of its citizens. Accusing and arresting people at will based on nothing but prejudice is a characteristic of my homeland, not yours." The German Captain's expression is grim and his tone serious enough to register even with the irritated Winters. Rather hoarsely the Lieutenant replies grudgingly: "You are right. Forgive me, Captain." Glaring one last time at Tully and Troy, the American officer storms off in the direction of the officer's table, barks harshly at a young soldier who does not manage to get out of his way fast enough and starts voicing his anger to Baker and Griffiths who bear long-suffering expressions.

Tully's expression however speaks of actual admiration, as he addresses the German Captain: "Thanks, Cap. Nobody's done nothing like this for me ever before." Dietrich raises his eyebrows in an ironic expression and replies with a professional matter-of-factual tone: "A matter of principle, Private, and nothing personal. I don't approve of accusing people only based on prejudice. Maybe you should learn English grammar from Sergeant Moffit, before trying to learn German." The last part is spoken with dry sarcasm and a wry smile. Without waiting for an answer, the tall officer turns and stalks toward the food dispenser where Fritz has already taken up his siege position. "Never doubt our dear Captain and his sense of justice and honor!", Troy comments with a grin, patting Tully on the shoulder, before he follows the German to help him with carrying his breakfast. If Tully would have required any further evidence that Dietrich is loyal to his men to the last bone, he has now been given proof of just that.

"Tully will follow you to hell and back again, with or without a Jeep", Troy tells the Captain with a grin. "As long as hell is not flooded and we require a boat", the German officer counters dryly, remembering the Private lamenting about his experiences with water. "He might do even that for you by now, Captain. You've really earned his trust and loyalty", the American Sergeant reminds him. "You don't have to follow me around and take care of me like I'm a child, Sergeant!", the proud German still protests, when they arrive at the food dispense. "I've told you already that I want to help my friends out", Troy argues vehemently and sees Dietrich stiffen at the choice of wording. Serves the stubborn Jerry smartass right for arguing unnecessarily.

Fritz successfully supports him in distracting the German, as the dog greets the Captain enthusiastically as always, jumping up to put its front paws on his thigh. "Fritz. Nein. Aus!", Dietrich orders sternly. "Runter mit dir. Du hast dich heute schon genug daneben benommen, ganz wie ein gewisser Sergeant." Troy has ignored the Captain speaking to his dog in German, but the word 'Sergeant' draws his attention. "Stop telling my dear friend Fritz weird things about me!", he teases the German. "Don't worry, Troy. His opinion of you will hardly decrease, as long as you keep feeding him the ends of your sausages", Dietrich deadpans. "What did you say then?", the American Sergeant asks his actual question with a bemused grin. "I said that he has already shown enough unruly behaviour today, just like a certain Sergeant", the German Captain translates, savouring the words and Troy's baffled expression. "It's not nice making jokes about a man with your dog in a language he can't understand. I thought you were an officer and gentleman", Troy counters dramatising his hurt feelings so obviously that both are aware of the joke. "Am I?", Dietrich inquires with raised eyebrows and a mock surprised tone. "I was under the impression that my reputation says that I'm either a devious rogue with little respect for rank or propriety or a genius investigator with even less respect for anybody." Troy laughs so hard that he has to place down the tablet to not spill everything, whether food or drink.

Once he has overcome his laughing fit, the American Sergeant assesses with a grin: "You're by far the most amusing friend I've ever had. Not even Browny and Jack put together could match you, when you have one of your streaks, especially since this British humor is not even funny most of the time." Dietrich is torn between frowning and smirking at the words, but settles for the last. "You have to understand that lack of proper food will drive men to desperate measures, Sergeant. And the Brits lack proper food all the time in spite of sufficient availability of nourishment", the German assesses dryly. Laughing, but not as hard as before the American picks up the tray again. "Don't let the Brits catch you saying they can't cook or they might spike that tea for you in the future", Troy assesses mirthfully, as he carries the tablet the last few paces to the officer's table. "I will have to use Moffit as my unwitting official taster then, as I cannot afford to feed you a truckload of sweets every time you drink tea", Dietrich argues smoothly with dry sarcasm. "Thanks for that, Captain. You're a true humanitarian", Troy replies with a grin from ear to ear and puts the younger man's breakfast on the table next to Boggs. "I'll see you later." The German gives a brief salute, barely wincing at the motion that Troy returns with a smirk, before turning around to get some breakfast for himself.

"After stopping Winters in the middle of his tirade half the camp will wish to join you, Captain Dietrich", James Boggs assesses mirthfully. "Good morning to you as well", the German replies sarcastically. "What is this nonsense of people volunteering to be under my command all about? Moffit has talked my ear off in sickbay with stories about Brits considering this, not even a hole in his lung being able to deter him." "You have initiated this yourself with allowing Corporal Gottschlich to join your unit after he has volunteered", Boggs admonishes. "Don't try to blame this on me, Captain Boggs! The Corporal was wronged by some previous comrades and officers and has to face prejudice with most officers of American descent given that he has a Japanese mother and a German surname inherited from his grandfather", Dietrich argues smoothly and coherently. "And you are probably the first who has cared for any of this and about the young man enough to take this into consideration and treat him fairly", Boggs holds against him. "That is part of my job", the German Captain counters vehemently. "Not as far as I know", Boggs states coolly. "But it is part of how you approach your job and treat your men. I can see far better now why they still adore you from prison and others wish to join you."

The younger German officer eyes him doubtfully. Seeing that he has not even taken a seat yet, James Boggs sighs and points toward the chair. "Please forgive my lack of manners. Take a seat and enjoy your breakfast, Captain." Dietrich frowns and hesitates for another moment, until he complies. "Lest Sergeant Troy returns to dress both of us down", the German Captain mutters with sarcasm and pierces an innocent piece of sausage. Boggs smiles at the words. "He surely doesn't care about ranks and propriety, when seeing a just cause, very much like his CO." Once the meaning registers with the younger officer, he scowls immediately. "Why exactly would people wish to join me, if my reputation is so utterly ruined?", Dietrich inquires sarcastically and takes a sip of his coffee shuddering slightly at the taste, as someone seems to have put a load of sugar into it. "This is the U.S. army, not the German one. This kind of attitude is appealing to most enlisted men who volunteered to fight here. Whatever you're doing you're doing it right. I've never seen Troy and Pettigrew so cooperative and dedicated to someone and they have been under my command for a year. For sure carrying my breakfast for me would never have occurred to Sergeant Troy even in his wildest dreams and even less to the Private", the American Captain argues, while his lean German colleague chews on a few mouthfuls of baked beans. "You Americans are far too sentimental", Dietrich finally assesses coolly. "Says the officer who cares enough for his men to ride alone through the North African desert for two weeks, jumps into snake pits or donates his own blood for his men", Boggs counters. "Even your stern German officer facade doesn't protect you from people seeing this which is the reason for the volunteers."

"You'd better keep your smart comments to yourself!", Winters' bellowing voice interrupts them rather harshly. The livid Lieutenant has grabbed David Troy by his collar and is shaking the RAF pilot like a bag of clothes. Dietrich is even swifter on his feet than Boggs and barks his command with the sharp tone of the tank commander who has ordered countless soldiers in dire battles: "Winters, release him!" When the American officer does not react right away beyond stopping his motions, Captain Boggs adds his own shout: "Lieutenant Winters! Release the Captain now!" Gritting his teeth and focusing a look of unrestrained fury at the younger Troy brother, Winters finally and very reluctantly complies. Relieved at being released without receiving a second black eye within two days, David Troy retreats to the two U.S. army Captains who seem to be his main allies at the moment.

While observing him warily, Hans Dietrich can see out of the corner of his eye that the older Troy brother takes his seat next to Pettigrew again, after having jumped to his feet at the previous commotion. If the Troys and the already infuriated American Lieutenant would have clashed, Dietrich would have been seriously worried about the safety of their camp. When David Troy pats Boggs on the shoulder, thanking him for his rescue, the older American Captain eyes him about as warily as does the German. Dietrich's dark glare is enough to quench the pilot's urge to repeat the same gesture with him. Rather sheepishly, David declares that he will get some breakfast and scurries off toward the soldier dispensing food. "The sooner he leaves the camp, the better", the German Captain mutters unnerved. "You're absolutely right", Boggs agrees sounding just as unnerved. "Although you're better than I at handling those brothers. Whatever did you do that they involved you in their family matters?" Dietrich bears a fatalistic expression and sighs deeply before groaning: "I'm asking myself the same question."

Both Captains silently agree to finish breakfast as quickly as possible, before David Troy returns to annoy them. "I have to take care of Winters before he really attacks anybody", Boggs groans, as he gets up. The German Captain smirks, as he replies nonchalantly: "I can hardly express how happy I am that this is not my obligation anymore." The older American looks briefly stunned at the dry comment, then smiles mildly. "As you have proven your abilities as a reliable second in command, I will entrust you with the handling of the Troys." Dietrich frowns and inquires with dry sarcasm: "I had no idea that I had affronted you so terribly. What crime have I committed to deserve such punishment?" Boggs cannot help but smile at the words. "Consider it a challenge worthy of a man of your calibre", he offers in a friendly tone. When the younger German Captain is not driven by pain and anger, he is actually a likeable man with a good sense of humor.

Raising his eyebrows in a sly expression, the German officer whispers dryly: "You'd better take your leave now to reign in Winters or my selfless sacrifice will be in vain. Troy is coming." "Thank you", Boggs replies quietly, as he quickly takes his leave. David Troy looks after his retreating back, as he asks Dietrich: "What happened to him?" "Some recent events made him lose his appetite", the German Captain comments dryly. "What did you tell Lieutenant Winters to anger him enough to wish to hit you?", the younger officer inquires without giving the other the chance to interrupt him. David Troy shrugs nonchalantly. "I just asked, if he's sure he didn't drink up his whiskey himself and forgot about it. It has happened to me before." "Do you take particular pleasure in annoying people you hardly know, Troy? Or do you simply have a death wish which would explain becoming a pilot in addition?", Dietrich inquires sarcastically.

The American pilot stares at him perplexed, before bursting out laughing. "I see why Sammy likes you that much. But to answer your question, I thought he has more sense of humor. Sadly, the Americans, or rather the American brass, really have less sense of humor than you, the German." The lean German raises his eyebrows, as he asks sarcastically: "Are you trying to insult me?" "No. Honestly", David Troy raises his hands in a defensive gesture. Dietrich furrows his eyebrows slightly, before continuing with his inquiry: "Do you have any news from the RAF, when they might return to provide further deliveries of supplies and retrieve you?" David gives him a lopsided grin. "You can't wait to get rid of me, can you? The Commodore said either today or tomorrow." The German Captain breathes a sigh of relief. "If I didn't know better, I'd be offended", David Troy adds with a smile. "Why would you be offended after all the chaos you and your brother have caused in this camp?", the German Captain counters sarcastically. "I haven't...", David starts to protest, but is interrupted immediately by the scowling German officer. "Oh yes, you have. Don't even try to deny it!"

"Are you annoying Dietrich again, Davey?", Sam Troy growls from behind. "No more than you, Sergeant", the German replies smoothly. "Some friend you are, you Jerry smartass!", Sam Troy snaps back. "I'm merely honouring the obligation to stay honest and true with one's friends", the young officer replies dryly. The statement appeases the older Troy brother enough to not growl at him, but pat him on the good shoulder instead. "You're a good guy, Captain." "If you have come to rescue me from your brother, Sergeant, your efforts are not necessary, but appreciated nonetheless", Dietrich replies dryly, before adding with a sly tone: "You will excuse me, Captain Troy. I have to take care of the men of my unit. Although I know this will be a serious challenge for you, do not cause further chaos!" Sam Troy glowers at his baffled younger brother for good measure, before following Dietrich who stalks through the tent with a 'cat got the cream' expression, content to have escaped David unscathed and even gotten his brother into a cooperative mood. "Call our men, Sergeant", the German Captain orders calmly. "I need to announce a few things, before I have to return to sickbay for physical therapy." "Tully, Gotty", Troy shouts and waves the two men to come over, while the German officer suppresses the urge to roll his eyes which would only make him appear undignified by openly showing how much this unsubtle behaviour annoys him. "I see you have activated your energy conserving mode of operation, Sergeant, but you may actually walk toward them and use names and ranks the next time, since we have solved the supply problems now", Dietrich remarks with dry sarcasm instead. The intended reprimand fails its purpose, as Troy appears more entertained than anything else by the comment.

Tully Pettigrew steps in front of Dietrich, trying his best to take an almost straight stance and even buttoning his open shirt mostly. Riku Gottschlich is more properly dressed to begin with and eyes the German officer with a mixture of apprehension, curiosity and admiration. The Captain eyes them for a few seconds with raised eyebrows, before addressing all three: "Gentlemen. We will meet after my therapy in an hour at 0930. Until then you are free to take your time to rest or exercise. I would ask you, Corporal Gottschlich, to prepare for showing us some of your tricks as arranged. We should have our talk afterwards, Corporal, if you feel up to this." Gottschlich nods in agreement, while Dietrich continues: "Also, gentlemen, I would ask for your input on what you think of several soldiers of different units and divisions wishing to join our unit." The two soldiers look totally astounded, while the American Sergeant bears a more grim than baffled expression. "You're too much of a goody-two-shoes to say no", Troy accuses him to which the German Captain answers with a scowl: "I am a Captain after all and the usual size of a unit under my command would be between 50 and 100 men depending on the type of troops." "No offense, Captain. But you're not supposed to lead a whole unit of the size of Boggs'." "I do hold the same rank and qualification", Dietrich growls, obviously offended by the statement. "Sure. Noone doubts your qualification. But that's not the kind of unit Atkins has intended for you." Scowling at the American Sergeant, the German Captain grinds out: "This is among the things to discuss with you. Who could be reasonable to accept in the prospect of our future obligations. You're dismissed for now, gentlemen." The tall officer turns on his heels and stalks off in the direction of the tent exit after giving a sharp salute.

Troy is stopped from following the German Captain by Tully Pettigrew asking him: "What's that all about? Who wants to join us?" Troy bears a grim expression: "Dietrich's too good at making a good impression on people." Gottschlich nods in agreement. "Rumor in camp says he's a good, selfless, honorable officer which he is. Several people asked me how I got to join you and what he is like. I said I just applied and that no officer ever before has cared that much about his soldiers or treated me that fairly." Troy smiles at the young man's argument, although it explains some of the cause for their troubles. The kid really adores Dietrich and has only spoken the truth from his perspective. That is hardly something he can accuse the young man for.

What he thinks about other people he does not know joining their unit is a different matter however. Hans Dietrich, as a German officer who has suffered losses at their hands regularly is used to having new soldiers join his unit frequently, but Sam Troy distrusts anyone he does not know on principle. That this makes him far less open than the German Captain he has scolded for his guarded attitude and behaviour after his defection, is slightly disconcerting to the American Sergeant. Grudgingly Troy has to admit that the young officer is far more straightforward, open and accepting than he has ever been when somebody he does not know is to join a team or military unit of his. No wonder nobody has ever applied to join his unit except for the spineless weasel Newman who did not even have the guts to do so openly. Would new people joining their crew be an advantage or disadvantage? He is still not sure about Gottschlich, but certain that persuading the General to give them Dietrich has been an excellent idea in spite of the drawbacks they are suffering now.

The German officer meanwhile returns to sickbay for his physical therapy. Not being on the brink of collapsing from exhaustion greatly helps his efforts and the young Captain is even able to memorize most of the exercises. By the time nurse Arno lets him leave, the lean German's shoulder hurts quite badly and the painkillers have become a necessity rather than a luxury. Fortunately, Moffit distracts Ari sufficiently through his language lessons that the boy does not cling to him too much and only shows off his latest acquired vocabulary before returning to the Brit's cot to receive further lessons. "I will inform you about the outcome of my discussion of further applications with the other members of our unit", the young Captain tells Moffit with a controlled voice and expression. "Thank you, Captain. I look forward to providing my own input and thoughts on that matter, should you have any specific applications to evaluate", the former Cambridge scholar replies coolly. "If I do, I will let you know just like Sergeant Troy, as I value your opinion, Doctor. You tend to be more rational and less emotional in your evaluations compared to the Americans", Dietrich states matter-of-factually. The British Sergeant almost smiles at the assessment. "Thank you. Best of luck to you, Captain." Then he returns to his language lessons and sternly corrects Ari's pronunciation.

On his way out, not only most of the German, but also some of the British soldiers greet Hans Dietrich in a friendly manner. This induces Major Bracken to call him to his table where the British officer is taken care of by Lieutenant Johnson, his aide, through providing him with a large pot of tea and reports of the camp's situation. "Captain Dietrich", the British Major addresses the young German officer sternly while motioning his Lieutenant to offer the fellow officer a cup of tea. "It has come to my attention that several of my soldiers have voiced interest in joining your unit. Could you provide me with any explanation for this?" Dietrich exchanges a perplexed and worried glance with Lieutenant Johnson who hands him his tea cup, as the German answers with calm professionalism: "Thank you, Lieutenant. You find me just as astounded as you are, Major Bracken. What is going on in the mind of a British soldier who wants to join the unit of a German Wehrmacht defector under the flag of the U.S. army originally affiliated with the Australians is beyond my imagination. However, I intend to find out more about this mystery by questioning some of these men myself, if they actually exist beyond rumor in this camp." The older British officer eyes the lean young German warily, before nodding. "Please report to me once you have a better understanding, Captain." The tall German officer gives a wincing salute, drinks up his tea and returns his cup to the British Lieutenant. Then, the lean Captain turns to leave the sickbay after confirming that his friend Jakob is nowhere around and has been released already.

Sam Troy awaits him eagerly outside the tent entrance to the sickbay. "Have they finally found something to keep you out of the hospital tent, Sergeant? I must ask the doctors and nurses what their secret is", Dietrich comments dryly. "Very funny, Captain", Troy huffs indignantly. "We've got a problem." The last statement immediately makes the tall officer tense and eye the American Sergeant warily. "What has happened?", Dietrich asks with a fatalistic tone and sighs. "You remember that mummy guy Moffit said could be a vampire or werewolf?", Troy asks. The German appears briefly baffled, before growling: "Not this superstitious nonsense again. You Amis are even worse than the Catholic Bavarians and Italians put together! Moffit clearly said that superstition that the man could be some supernatural creature might have been the reason why he was stabbed through the heart in addition to almost having had his head cut off by a cavalry saber. There are no cursed mummies, werewolves or vampires out here! The only monsters you might find are human beings who have left all their humanity behind." The Captain's eyes appear slightly haunted as memories of Nazis, SS or Wehrmacht soldiers and their treatment of natives, Allied prisoners, suspected Germans and Jews come to him unbidden. Briefly, the young officer has to wrestle with the traumatic memories before he can push them to the back of his mind again through an effort of will. Troy observes the German's drawn face with a certain amount of concern and raises his hand to get him out of it, when the Captain shakes his head and focuses his gaze back on the American Sergeant, raising his eyebrows in a silent question.

Troy pulls back his hand and answers instead with a worried tone: "Some guys seem to have gotten wind of it and dug him out to burn the body." Dietrich appears absolutely nonplussed for a few moments before recovering from his shock and surprise. "Has everybody in this camp lost their sanity?", he snaps with dark irony. "When has this happened?" "I guess somewhen in the night", Troy answers. "Then the mummy should be long burned to ashes by now", the German officer replies with a frown. "Although it is a shameful desecration of a soldier's dead remains, I fail to see how this is a problem for our camp?" Troy looks slightly embarrassed. "It wouldn't have been, if somebody had not lost some stuff there." The Captain is close to losing his patience with the annoying American. "Get to the point, Troy. What is going on?" "You remember the two Aussies, Willy McKenna and Jimmy Waylon?", Troy inquires. "Do you take me for an idiot, Sergeant? Since I'm suffering neither from amnesia nor dementia, I of course remember them", the proud German growls indignantly. "Please don't tell me that in his state of inebriation Pettigrew has persuaded them to go vampire hunting with him?" "They don't call you Captain Sherlock for nothing, Dietrich", Troy answers with a lopsided grin. Briefly the German officer wonders how he has managed to anger any divine entity or the powers of fate so terribly that they would punish him with such events which as usual with the Rats defy any logic and rationality. Even when they are on the same side they efficiently manage to push him to the brink of losing sanity.

Then, his own rationality resets to its original state and he turns to walk briskly in the direction where the corpse has been buried. Troy jogs along with him, as he blurts out his explanation: "Winters is already there and quarreling with Browny, accusing the Aussies to have taken his whiskey and celebrated a wild party. Now they're close to starting a real duel of honor." "What was I thinking when joining the crazy Yankees? I should have gone with the Brits. I could have lived with a dry sense of humor, strong black tea and years in the desert have taught me to survive even without any decent food, but I am fairly sure I cannot live with this amount of insanity!", the German mutters as if to himself with dark irony. Troy tries to console him. "Come on, Captain! We're really not that bad." "Not that bad?", Dietrich snaps indignantly. "You're surpassing my worst imaginations by far, Sergeant!"

When they both close in on the spots where Jakob and Ari have found the mummy two days ago to Moffit's delight, shouts can already be heard from a distance which spur the German's already brisk steps to a run. "I will not tolerate such accusations against my lads, Lieutenant!", Captain Brown shouts angrily. "Those damned thieves stole my whiskey and had a party out here. I demand satisfaction!", the American officer roars back with the intensity of an infuriated lion. "Are you still accusing people without evidence, First Lieutenant Winters?!", Dietrich bellows his own intervention, as he makes his way down the last sand dune that has separated him from the location of the quarrels. "I've got real evidence", Winters barks back furiously, waving a piece of cloth. The German has finally arrived at the scene and eyes the so-called evidence with suspiciously raised eyebrows, resting his hands on his hips to reduce the strain on his shoulder. "A piece of cloth from a shirt sleeve is hardly sufficient evidence to identify a specific soldier", the tall Captain replies coolly. "Which is exactly what I have told him", Brown intercedes. "Thank you for your support, Captain Dietrich."

"He's just protecting his Australian cheaters and thieves", Winters protests. "All I want is to question them, until I find the guilty party." "Do you intend to apply the methodology of the Spanish Inquisition for this or merely restrain yourself to SS methods, Lieutenant?", the German asks with dark sarcasm, making his dislike for such an approach quite obvious. Brown smiles at the younger officer with clear sympathy. "Captain Dietrich is right that conducting interrogations is not warranted." "Not warranted?", Winters roars at both of them. "Is stealing from an officer not warranting an interrogation?" "Not of an entire unit without any clear evidence to identify a specific culprit or even linking the burning of a mummified corpse to the thievery of your alcohol supply in the first place, Lieutenant", Dietrich admonishes in a more moderate tone, trying to return reason to this conversation. "We are not talking about a crime that has endangered the whole camp after all." The older American officer looks like he would like to answer this preferably with his aggressively balled fist, but refrains from doing so, as several of the surrounding soldiers along with Sam Troy take battle-ready stances, showing their willingness to defend the two Captains quite clearly. "Wait till I find something!", he snarls instead. "When you present clear and indisputable evidence pointing unambiguously to a single suspect, you are within your right to have that soldier punished for his crime, Lieutenant", Dietrich agrees. Growling lowly, the balding American rushes off toward the camp, throwing murderous glares at Troy and the Aussies, as he passes by them.

"Thank you for your well-timed intervention, Captain", Brown pats the German on the left shoulder who glares at him for violating his private space. "One Australian-American duel in this camp suffices, after the last fortunately has ended without any serious injury. We can't have officers of the same side shoot at each other", Dietrich explains matter-of-factually. "That fellow sure looked mad enough to be willing to do that", Brown agrees. "We were lucky I found him just in time and got him here quickly enough", Troy agrees. "Couldn't you do me the favor of calling Captain Boggs next time?", the German officer asks sarcastically. "Sorry, Dietrich. But he's not half as fast at running as you are and I needed someone quick", the American Sergeant replies with a grin. "And stop violating my name, just because you want to get me to like your nicknames", the tall officer admonishes with dry irony.

Then he turns toward the shorter Australian Captain. "Since I have you available, Captain Brown, you may enlighten me on the rumors in camp about applications of some of your men for my unit. Is this grounded in reality beyond the usual alcohol-induced nonsense enlisted men tend to tell each other once surpassing a certain degree of inebriation?" Brown smiles in amusement at the formulation of the question. His own men beat him to answering however. "I'm absolutely serious about volunteering, Captain Dietrich", a blond young man of obvious British descent steps forward. "So am I", another lanky young man with a freckled sunburnt face shows a similar gesture. "And I", a short dark-haired man agrees. Only the lanky one Dietrich recognizes from their rescue mission, as he struggles to not let his incredulity show too obviously on his face. "Then you may answer my next question yourselves, gentlemen. Why do three Australian soldiers apply to join a German defector they only know as an enemy commander without knowing anything further beyond dubious camp rumours?"

"I've seen you jump in that snake pit, Captain, to get your own lad out and you would have helped Mickey as well, if he hadn't been dead already", the first soldier argues. "And you've gone out into the desert to retrieve our fellas, Captain", the second one supplies. "Any other officer in this camp would have done the same", the German counters sternly. "But you stood by your enlisted man and faced down that mad Lieutenant. There's not many of our brass who'd do that for one of us", the third one argues. "This is the point where I would feel offended, if I were you, Brown", Dietrich whispers with a sarcastic tone in the Australian's direction, before speaking more loudly and seriously toward the Australian soldiers: "Your own Captain has just stood between you and this", he smiles wryly, as he savours the next words, "'mad Lieutenant'. Isn't this the same effort?" "But you managed to scare him off twice, Sir", the Aussie argues and gives his Captain a sheepish look. "Sorry, Captain Browny." Brown bears a lopsided smile. "Don't worry, Furrows, I'm not taking it personally... at least not too much."

Dietrich appears slightly taken aback by their arguments. "Gentlemen. Although I am honored by your trust in my leadership, I am currently unable to accept anyone into my unit, as I do not know its future beyond the next few days which includes the type of missions as much as the size and required qualifications", the German argues seriously with the honorableness and stateliness appropriate for his rank and upbringing. "If you are absolutely serious about this request, you may hand in a written application, arguing your incentive for considering such a step, so that I may consider you for a transfer at a certain time in the future, if your qualifications and motivation fit with our requirements. But you should be aware that this will then be an official transfer and there will be no going back, if you are discontent. You may inform any of your fellow soldiers about these conditions at my explicit order, gentlemen." All three look rather taken aback at the formality of the request, but nod and salute which the German answers with a fairly sharp, but wincing salute of his own. "This should return order to the chaos we currently have to face. Farewell, Captain Brown", the taller younger Captain greets his older colleague. "Fare thee well, lad. And thanks again for your intervention, Captain Dietrich." The German answers the expression of gratitude with a curt nod indicating his acceptance, before he turns to make his way back to camp.

"Two to zero for you", Troy comments as he catches up with the German halfway up the dune. "That must've been pretty hard for Winters." "The true tragedy for him is that I know that he is right with his intuitive accusations to a certain degree, but I just can't let him accuse and punish anyone without proof to back him up. Besides, I would not sell out my own men", the German argues wearily, feeling slightly guilty about his own involvement. "You've truly acted nobly, honorably and chivalrously, as I expected, Captain, and never would've doubted", Troy answers with a smile patting the taller man on the shoulder who scowls slightly at the words and the gesture. "Honestly, Captain. You're a good and loyal guy and really the last one who has to feel guilty for anything, since no one got hurt except for Winters' whiskey bottle and the Lieutenant's pride after all." "Which can survive this confrontation with reality without seriously harming the Lieutenant's personality", the Captain comments dryly, feeling somewhat consoled at the reminder that compared to the usual path of destruction the Rats have left in their wake this is indeed a laughable incident and no serious harm has been done through their distraction unlike many previous events.

With a bemused smile he adds in spite of himself: "And I can perfectly understand why you nicknamed him Volcano after all this." Troy smiles widely. "You see?! These nicknames are really useful for telling you something about the person." "In this case I see the appropriate description provided by the nickname as well as the necessity to keep it hidden from its bearer", the German replies. "So, what do we do about yours?", Troy asks. "Is this a singular or plural form?", Dietrich sighs wearily. "If you ask me, I'd stay with Captain Sherlock, if I were you. It describes you Jerry smartass perfectly", Troy argues. "Is it necessary to constantly insult me, Sergeant? I didn't even say anything to provoke this", the German mutters with slightly wounded pride. "How about 'Is this a singular or plural form'. You're the second worst grammar enthusiast after Jack Moffit and he's a Cambridge scholar", the American Sergeant argues. "Grammar is an essential part of mastering a language properly", the Captain argues. "You're basically proving my point right now, Captain", Troy counters with a grin. "And this nickname has the added bonus that it doesn't make you look a rogue half of the time." "Your logic is indisputable, Sergeant", the German replies with dry sarcasm.

"Hey, Cap, Sarge!", Tully shouts as he jogs towards them with Gottschlich in his wake who bears a worried look. "We saw you take off into the desert, then Winters stormed back into camp from that direction with all the madness of an alligator that tasted blood. What happened?" Troy and Dietrich briefly exchange a glance, before the German starts his dry answer: "At least you didn't bring the bazooka along, Pettigrew." Tully grins widely, shifting his matchstick. Dietrich meanwhile continues with his answer to his original question in similar dry humor: "The Lieutenant was confronted with the impossibility of accusing soldiers at random based on laughable evidence and a second Captain standing in between him and his soldiers." "Browny almost got into a duel with the Volcano and our smart Sherlock here prevented it just in time", Troy adds his explanations. "Sergeant", Dietrich protests. "Spare me the usage of your nicknames for me in my presence at least, since I have no way of keeping you from using them behind my back anyways." "Fine. If it makes you feel better, Captain", Troy concedes magnanimously. After all, he has gotten the young German to accept the usage of his nickname out of his presence and among the soldiers without any further protest within a single day. The Captain is smart enough to know when to preserve his energy and not waste it on senseless quarrels.

"It's about time we learn some tricks from Gotty here to beat up 'the mad Lieutenant' properly next time he wants to challenge a Captain to a duel. That could very likely be you after all", Troy argues. Both he and Dietrich wear a wry smile at the Aussies' description for Winters given his behaviour. "I'm touched by your worry for my safety and wellbeing, Sergeant", the German comments sarcastically. "But I agree with you that we should start with this training sooner rather than later, just as you should start your language training in German sooner rather than later. Sergeant Moffit has a lot of spare time available at the moment after all." Troy grins at him from ear to ear. "That sounds like fun, almost like going back to school again, as if it hadn't been unpleasant enough the first time 'round. But we can still continue with you showing us some interesting phrases or some of your special tricks, Captain." "Hell will freeze over, before I show you how to pick locks or pockets, Troy. Or I will never feel safe again", the German Captain counters sarcastically. Troy looks torn between looking disappointed and bemused. "Training Moffit for this type of skill set would be more reasonable, as he possesses the required patience and subtlety." Now the American Sergeant looks truly delighted. "I can't wait to see his face when you tell him that, Captain." "Neither can I", Dietrich smirks at the thought.

Then his expression turns serious again. "So, Corporal Gottschlich. Would you care to give us a first introduction into your way of fighting?" The young American tenses and looks quite nervous to find himself in the centre of attention. "A..as I h..have told you b..before, my s..style of f..fighting is called karate jitsu", the Corporal stammers until arriving at the Japanese words. They seem to lend him some strength and security, as he continues more clearly afterwards. "It is a way of fighting mainly unarmed against unarmed or armed opponents in melee. Unlike boxing it has techniques for arms, hands, legs and feet alike. Another Japanese fighting style, Judo, 'the soft way', is focused on the throwing of the opponent to the ground and binding him there. But this is not what I have learned from my uncle." Troy and Dietrich briefly exchange looks, the Sergeant scowling, while the Captain looks curious and interested. Tully simply shifts his matchstick in his mouth with an unreadable expression. Gottschlich takes in each of his future trainees from head to toe, starting with the tall and lean German. "You have an advantage and a disadvantage simultaneously through height and longer arms and legs, Captain. On the one hand you have a longer reach, on the other hand applying momentum which is important for many techniques takes longer and is somewhat harder." Dietrich frowns slightly at the assessment, but nods in acknowledgment. "You, Sergeant Troy", Sam Troy scowls at the formal address, "and Tully, have the advantage of making yourself compact for gaining momentum easily." The two Americans look content. "So what's the trick?", Troy asks impatiently. "Gaining and applying momentum", Gottschlich answers him and shows him the motion of his fist slowly and deliberately from the side, as he performs a strike to the front moving the whole arm from waist height to the front, shifting his fist by 180 degrees during the process and thus gaining additional momentum to a simple forward strike. "How's that any good?", Troy growls, "it's more complicated and takes longer than just plain striking forward." "The trick, as you say, Sergeant, is that with the extra movement comes extra force to the punch, so a weaker opponent can beat a stronger one", Gottschlich argues. "An interesting physical principle to gain force and momentum through arm rotation", the German Captain muses as he very slowly performs the motion himself which Gottschlich corrects at the first attempt.

Dietrich is the fastest to grasp the idea of the actual physics behind this particular motion and is quite impressed by the difference he assesses between a simple and this type of strike, although he tries to keep this from showing on his face too clearly. The sharp pain in his shoulder quenches any thoughts of trying this more often than a few times and at a very slow motion with his injured side, while the other two men have to struggle harder against their motor memory which is not used to the arm rotation. With the left side the German Captain easily outperforms the other two in grasping the basic motion quickly and performing it swiftly. After five minutes of training in which Troy constantly mutters curses or other expressions of his annoyance Gotty ends their first training round.

After the forward strike follows the demonstration of ways to block this with one's arm, redirecting the motion to the side, upwards or downwards. Similarly to before the young Corporal lets the three soldiers train the defensive movements which prove challenging for all of them, as they are unlike any usual defensive maneuvers in European-American hand-to-hand fighting. Hans Dietrich has to settle for only trying to practice this with his uninjured left arm which makes it more challenging than having his right arm available. "It will take some time until you have memorized the motion well enough to start practicing with each other", the Japanese-stemming American assesses with furrowed brows after half an hour of training which leaves the three soldiers sweating.

His potential next training phase is interrupted by shouts of the camp guards which immediately draw all their attention. Gottschlich stands next to Dietrich, as the Captain calls one of the soldiers to report the reason for the commotion to him, while Troy and Tully choose their usual approach of trying to find this out themselves. "An Aussie patrol reported planes, Sir. Captain Boggs ordered to prepare for a potential enemy attack, as we have not been called by HQ." Dietrich looks up at the sky which unlike the previous days of sunshine looks grey and leaden today. With a frown the German Captain turns to speak with Boggs immediately. "Inform Sergeant Troy that I'm consulting with Captain Boggs, Corporal Gottschlich. Tell him to find his brother and bring him to the office tent, preferably alive and well." The young American soldier looks baffled by the slightly sarcastic final remark, but salutes and confirms the command.

When the German Captain enters the office tent, Boggs has already assembled Major Turner, Captain Brown and First Lieutenant Adams, along with the British Lieutenant Johnson. The American camp commander looks fairly relieved to see the younger officer and addresses him immediately: "Captain Dietrich, do you know anything about the RAF sending us planes today?" The German officer shakes his head. "Not from any reliable source or direct communication. When I asked him directly, David Troy said that they would come either today or tomorrow. For this reason I've just sent his brother out to summon him, explicitly reminding the Sergeant to leave the Captain in one piece." Brown grins at the dry comment, while merely a brief wry smile passes over Boggs' face. "Let's hope the Sergeant heeds your word more than he has ever heeded mine", the older American Captain replies wearily.

"So you ordered to prepare the camp for a potential aerial attack", Dietrich states as a fact, but Boggs nods affirmatively nonetheless. "It's better to be safe than sorry", Major Turner backs the American Captain up. "How do you intend to discern between friend or foe?", Dietrich inquires. "One of my scout units already has sighted them. They should be able to make out the type of planes or their colours", Brown answers him. "Air Commodore George-Irving has flown a Fieseler Storch, a German plane, the last time. I would not recommend using this as your only way of assessment. And from two years of experience with discerning the colours of planes while they are high up in the air at their travel height, I can tell you that it is a great challenge or even virtually impossible to make out depending on the angle with respect to the sun and the weather conditions." "If you say so, Hawkeye, I totally believe you", Brown remarks and finds himself unexpectedly at the receiving end of the German Captain's wrath. "Don't you dare invent and spread even more ridiculous nicknames for me, Brown! It's bad enough that Troy and his accomplices are doing that among the ranks of the enlisted men."

Divine intervention in the form of the arrival of David and Sam Troy saves the Australian Captain from the furious looking younger officer. "Captain Troy", Boggs intervenes quickly, before the situation might start to escalate. The proud German officer has quite a temper, but has also proven to be smart and reliable enough to reign it in, if the situation demands, unless he suffers from excessive pain clouding his rationality. Dietrich scowls at the new arrivals, but wrestles down his anger at Brown's insolent nickname usage quickly, as he focuses on the situation at hand. "Do you know about your unit planning to arrive today?", Boggs questions David Troy who shrugs nonchalantly. "Maybe. Either today or tomorrow, as far as I know." "A squadron of planes is approaching fast and according to Captain Dietrich discerning in advance which faction they belong to is a challenge." "Have you tried calling the RAF?", the younger Troy brother asks and Boggs eyes him with an affronted expression that reminds Sam almost of Hans Dietrich. "Of course, we have tried this first, several times even. During the last half an hour we have not been able to reach them, likely due to some interference which could be a sand storm as well as battle action in the North."

"No idea how I could help you then", David starts out and finds himself under attack by a rather angry German Captain. "Are you deliberately trying to be obtuse, Troy? You could for example take off with your plane in the direction of the approaching airplanes and try to get sight contact. Once you identify the planes you can signal to the Australian unit out there whether it is friend or foe approaching us, so that they can inform us via radio." David Troy is briefly startled by the harsh words, but sees the reason behind them. "I could surely do that, Captain Dietrich." The German grits his teeth at the terrible pronunciation of his name as much as the insufferable grin of the American idiot. Why the Brits have made this clown an officer is truly beyond him. "Then I ask you to hurry and execute Captain Dietrich's suggested maneuver to the best of your abilities", James Boggs addresses the RAF pilot in a more friendly tone than his German colleague to whom he is grateful for his smart suggestion that might hopefully prepare them for an attack, if it is not their allied squadron approaching, or might prevent shooting at their allies. With a staged salute that has only been surpassed by Tenente Marcello, the opera singer, in melodrama, David Troy takes his leave and jogs off toward his plane.

"Thank you for your excellent suggestion, Captain Dietrich", Boggs addresses the younger German with a friendly tone. "In the future though, I would ask you to apply a more professional and moderate tone with an allied officer." "With an Allied officer who does not wreak havoc in camp and induce at least two affrays in as many days I am surely inclined to do this", Dietrich replies sarcastically, keeping his head held high in an obviously proud notion while stubbornly meeting his gaze with the older American Captain. Boggs merely sighs and nods fatalistically. The proud young German officer is no less stubborn than the Troy brothers which helps him greatly in dealing with them, but does not help James Boggs' nerves in dealing with him. "Thanks, Captain Dietrich", Brown addresses him. "I'll warn my lads that they should expect the pilot to signal them." "Hopefully, this does not exceed Troy's intellectual capacities. Yesterday he almost dove his plane nose-first into a dune ridge we were standing on to draw our attention", the German Captain comments with dry sarcasm. Brown's genial smile briefly falters at these words, before he mutters: "Nay. You're joking, right? He'd never do something like this." "Actually, he did, Browny", Sam Troy supports his Captain now. "May god have mercy with this fool and send him some enlightenment!", the Australian Captain replies with almost as dry a tone as the German before him who smirks at the statement. "I perfectly understand your attitude toward him now, Captain Dietrich. No wonder my lads celebrate you as a hero for putting up with shenanigans like that." Hans Dietrich sounds quite amused, as he comments dryly: "I truly appreciate your compassion, Brown. You'd better warn your unit now, before Troy crashes his plane into them."

Captain Brown quickly leaves after envisioning this horror scenario which he cannot totally exclude from happening. "We should prepare the camp as best we can", Dietrich turns to Boggs now. "Use camouflage nets wherever possible to hide the tents and order all metallic, glass or other reflective surfaces to be hidden. Even without glaring sunlight, they still reflect some residual light." The former Panzer commander has experienced aerial attacks against his camps or convoys in the open desert dozens of times in the past two years and a clear strategy of how to act. "Order all men to stay inside the tents after that or until we get an all-clear signal from the patrol, so that their faces are not spotted easily from above!" Major Turner eyes him warily. "You have dealt with this type of situation how many times, Captain Dietrich?" The German smiles wryly and without any humor. "More often than I'd want to count, probably 40 to 50 times." The American Major and the American Captain Boggs exchange a long gaze, until James Boggs suggests: "We'd better do what Captain Dietrich is suggesting, as I doubt any of us has this amount of experience."

Major Turner addresses the officers now directly: "Relay the Captain's orders to your respective men, Captain Boggs, Lieutenant Johnson. I will give orders to the General's troops. Captain Dietrich, you take care of providing these orders to the Australian troops." At the German Captain's baffled expression, the Major adds: "They respect you the most after their Captain Brown. Since he is currently indisposed and time is of the essence that is the most reasonable choice." "Of course, Major", Dietrich mutters and gives a sharp, but wincing salute. The training exercises with Gottschlich have been quite a strain for his aching shoulder. The other officers also accept their orders by providing a salute and quickly turn to leave just like the German Captain.

"I'm coming with you, Captain", Sam Troy announces, as he falls into step with Hans Dietrich. "Why am I not surprised", the German comments dryly. "Where are Gottschlich and Pettigrew?" "Just outside", Troy replies and only a few seconds later the two catch up with them, once they have left the tent. "I am to inform the Australians of their duties in camouflaging their tents and vehicles and hiding any reflective surfaces. You, Private and Corporal, will go to the motor pool immediately and assure that as many vehicles as possible are hidden inside with only the largest and least mobile ones, such as the captured tanks being left outside and hidden under camouflage nettings, if they are available." "Sure, Cap", Tully affirms the order, while Gottschlich salutes and provides a more appropriate "Yes, Sir!". Then both turn off in the direction of the motor pool.

"We're taking care of the Aussies", Troy prompts with a wide grin. "Looks like they got their change of Captain faster than anticipated", the German comments with dry amusement. "A good lesson in being careful what you wish for." Troy barks a laugh and pats the younger man on the shoulder who has gotten so used to this treatment that he is not tensing immediately at the touch anymore. "Watch out that you get rid of them afterwards, lest Browny tricks you into taking care of them, while he takes his holidays, much like Boggs." "I've learned my lesson", Dietrich replies with dry sarcasm. "Next time I immediately send you and the rest of the merry men to annoy Bracken beyond measure, until he pressures Brown to return to duty. You may even use Fritz and combine forces with Jakob for creating insane schemes." Troy grins from ear to ear. "You're a wily fox, Captain. I'm sure Hitch will love this 'Operation Fritz'. And since you're talking about your friend, why don't you take him into our unit?" Dietrich eyes the American Sergeant with a guarded expression and speaks in a carefully controlled manner. "You are aware that Lieutenant Silberblatt is not exactly the type of soldier fitting for a commando unit, Sergeant?" Troy nods. "He's no frontline soldier, but he's good with analysing and planning stuff and could stay on the other end of the radio, when things go downhill. He really organised stuff well for us, whenever we called the camp." "I have talked about this with him, before the German commando soldiers abducted and almost killed us, mind you, and he already was rather reluctant to consider such an option back then", the German explains choosing his words carefully, but Sam Troy can clearly hear the worry and concern for his friend edged into his voice. "You wouldn't risk your friend's health or sanity which is truly noble of you, Captain", Troy comments. "It's the least any friend should do", the young officer snaps back.

"Oi look. Captain Sherlock's comin'!", one of the Aussie soldiers shouts rather conspicuously, as they approach the Australian part of the camp. Dietrich glares at him, but is soon distracted, as several soldiers come rushing toward him. "What's happened, Captain?", Kevin O'Donnell inquires. Sergeant Williamson comes running from another end of the camp and the German Captain waits with providing his answer, until he has arrived: "An aerial squadron approaches the camp and we don't know whether they are friend or foe. Captain Brown is currently talking with one of your patrols which has had sight contact and instructs them how to interact with our own reconnaissance aircraft piloted by Captain Troy who also supported us yesterday in finding your comrades." Several Aussies smile or look relieved at the news. "Why did you come here, Captain? Just to tell us this?", Williamson inquires with a worried tone. "Unfortunately not. I am to instruct you to order your men to hide your vehicles, tents and any reflective surfaces under camouflage nets and stay inside the tents when the aircrafts actually approach", the German Captain replies with a serious tone. "Aye, Sir. We'll take care of it immediately", the aboriginal Sergeant confirms. "I entrust this into your hands, Sergeant Williamson. Inform all your soldiers, coordinate the preparations and inform Captain Brown, when he returns from his radio call. I have other duties to take care of!" Williamson eyes the young German Captain with appreciation at his words and salutes sharply to the officer, as do several of the soldiers standing around them, before scurrying off to gather their comrades for a briefing.

"What other duties do we have?", Troy inquires with nagging curiosity once he has followed Dietrich out of earshot of the busy Aussies. "The German tanks are almost impossible to camouflage in such large numbers and provide an excellent target for an aerial attack as well as give away the position of our camp, especially since I know that we did not have enough camouflaging to bring with us in the first place. I want to have them moved out of the camp to provide a distraction for potential attackers", the German Captain explains coolly. "And where the heck do we get people who can operate these monsters from so quickly?", Troy counters with a sharp question. Dietrich bears one of his sly grins, as he argues: "You have almost a hundred of them in your POW area. Most of them are still listening to my command, especially if it means to save their own lives as well." Troy looks dumbfounded for all of five seconds, until he recovers from his initial shock. "You'd let German soldiers into German tanks to drive them around?" "I'd only choose men I can trust explicitly for something like this", the former Wehrmacht Panzer Hauptmann replies. "And I am aware of the risks I am taking with this initiative." Troy nods grimly. "Good. Cause there's no way in hell that I'm gonna let you do some crazy stunt like this on your own." The Captain bears a wry smile. "Knowing you, Troy, this is not unexpected either." "Okay, let's shake it then, Captain Fox Kit." "Troy! Which part of 'no new nicknames' is your brain not able to process?", the German snaps in exasperation. "But it's not a new one, it's only the translation of your oldest nickname by the Italians. I really like this one and it sounds actually awesome in Italian, but I just can't speak the word", Troy argues slyly. "Don't try my patience, Sergeant! I'm already asking myself in what kind of state of mental derangement I have possibly let myself be persuaded to allow you a probation period", Dietrich growls sounding just as unnerved as he feels by the American Sergeant.

Troy realizes that pushing the proud and stubborn young officer beyond his breaking point would not end well for their arrangement and thus leaves the last statement as it is. Instead he tries to appease him with an offer of support. "We also learned to drive one of those Panzers, although Moffit mainly knew how to operate the thing and we just followed his orders. You know that was when we just bluffed our way into your fort, shot up the ammunition depot and left little Fritz at your doorstep." Dietrich pinches his nose, trying his best to stave his quickly building headache and not look as unnerved as he feels right now. "How could I forget something like this?", the German just growls with dry sarcasm. "So are you offering to drive a tank all by yourself or do you require a competent instructor in addition? Try not to fire at any of our ammunition depots though." The American Sergeant scowls at the the last part, but realizes that is is not a good idea to push the German now. "I'd take your help any time. You count as a competent instructor I'd say", Troy tries to persuade the wary young Captain by applying his most friendly tone which only increases Dietrich's wariness though. Without commenting on the last part, the German Captain continues on his way looking stern but resolved. Best not to dwell on the thought of instructing Troy of all people on tank operation. Mentally preparing for his ensuing confrontation with the American senior officers is already taxing enough.

The German officer approaches the prison camp directly, salutes to the guard and enters without further discussion. Troy stays at his side, but keeps his hands on his gun holster and observes the whole scene grimly, as several German soldiers approach the young Captain immediately, when they spot him walking toward the officers' tent. "Herr Hauptmann, was tun Sie hier?", sounds from several sides. "Ich suche Leutnant Haberfeld und Tenente Marcello. Wo sind die beiden?", Dietrich answers the question what he is doing here honestly with searching for the Lieutenants Haberfeld and Marcello, asking where they are. "Ich gehe sie holen", one of the soldiers, a man the former Wehrmacht Hauptmann recognizes as Peter Zihr, offers to summon them and darts off immediately. That he can still barely understand what is spoken is greatly unnerving for Sam Troy who warily looks around and scowls at each and every German soldier within his line of sight. Meanwhile, Hans Dietrich calms the men around him that they need not worry because of the delay of their transport to POW camps which is only due to taking care of the wounded and injured and acquiring sufficient supplies. Haberfeld approaches the young German officer who has once been his CO with apprehension clearly written on his face, as he asks what has happened. "Was ist geschehen, Hauptmann Dietrich?" "Lassen Sie die Männer zum Appell antreten. Ich habe etwas zu verlautbaren." Sternly, Dietrich orders the men to appear for a roll call so that he can make an announcement. "Alle Mann antreten!", Haberfeld bellows his order with a practiced command voice that can be heard in the whole POW camp area.

When the almost 100 soldiers of three German units and Marcello's Italian unit stand at attention, Dietrich addresses them directly after giving a sharp, yet wincing salute. "Meine Herren. Dieses Lager steht potentiell unter Luftangriff und damit laufen nicht nur die Alliierten, sondern auch Sie alle Gefahr Opfer eines solchen Angriffs zu werden. Ich bin mir dessen bewusst, dass ich nicht länger Offizier der Wehrmacht bin, fordere Sie aber in Ihrem eigenen Interesse, zum Schutze Ihrer selbst und Ihrer Kameraden auf, bei der Evakuierung der Panzer aus dem Lager als freiwillige Fahrer unter Alliierter Bewachung mitzuhelfen. Wer sich zu solch einer Tätigkeit freiwillig melden möchte, möge vortreten, auf dass ich Sie gemeinsam mit Leutnant Haberfeld und Tenente Marcello auf Ihre Zuverlässigkeit überprüfen kann." After giving his speech in German, the lean Captain repeats in Italian that he asks the men in their own and their comrades' interests to support the Allied soldiers in evacuating the tanks from the camp area by volunteering to help him as drivers, even though he is no longer a Wehrmacht officer. Also he adds that all volunteers will be evaluated by Tenente Marcello, Leutnant Haberfeld and himself to avoid that some who would wish to use this as a chance for retaliation against the Americans, Brits and Australians can be found before they are given the chance to cause trouble.

If Troy has worried how they might drive the tanks previously, this worry is taken care of after Dietrich together with the two Axis Lieutenants has chosen 20 reliable German soldiers skilled at operating tanks including Haberfeld himself. All of them stand around the German Captain in a manner Troy has seen him many times in the midst of his men. "Sergeant, we need at least ten reliable soldiers from our side to function as guards during this operation. I'd rather apply your abilities in this way than by trying to maneuver a German tank yourself", the tall officer addresses him with a cool professional tone. "Sure thing, Captain. I'll take care of it!", Troy confirms and with some reluctance leaves the former Hauptmann among his former men, as he takes off to summon soldiers who could work as guards and are not already needed for other duties more direly.

Tully and Gotty do not need convincing to follow Troy on his mission, some of the others actually do, although the American Sergeant soon finds that mentioning Dietrich's name and gaining favour with the Captain works wonders to motivate soldiers, especially from Winters' unit. With 14 guards in tow, he returns to the place where they have parked the German tanks Dietrich has handed over along with his unit. Leutnant Haberfeld bears an almost gleeful expression, as he approaches the first tank and runs his fingers over its hull in the same caressing manner Tully sometimes treats one of his Jeeps. Deciding that these technicians have a screw loose at times Troy instead approaches the tall lean officer, instructing the American soldiers to report to the Captain. With diligence and planning characteristic for the German officer that he actually is, Hans Dietrich sends two Panzer operators along with one or two Allied soldiers to act as their guards, while he assures that two guards are always formed of one younger inexperienced soldier combined with a more experienced one and assigned to the men he knows less well or has his doubts about their reliability. Troy is to watch Haberfeld and his second operator. Instead of entering a tank, Dietrich himself stays outside to provide commands through their sign language to direct them where he intends them to go. His intended target location is a place no more than five minutes drive out of the camp, which is however far enough away to provide a distraction site that will not harm the actual camp, if destroyed in an attack, and which will draw attention away from their original camp.

While the soldiers man their posts either as operators or guards, Jakob Silberblatt comes running towards his friend. "Hans, what are you doing?", the Jewish Lieutenant asks, sounding out of breath, but looking absolutely incredulous. "I am providing the camp with a second line of defense by moving the tanks which we could not hide lacking proper camouflage netting in sufficient amounts out of the area and rearranging them close by to give the illusion of a camp being located there and distract aerial attackers hopefully from our actual camp in this manner." Jakob just gapes at him, before recovering enough to speak. "That's brilliant. Was it the General's idea?" His German friend almost sneers at the question. "No. It was my idea. Hopefully, it works well enough that I do not find myself confronted with accusations of insubordination, treason or worse... again." Silberblatt looks truly worried at the young German officer now. "I'll inform the General right away to keep that from happening." "Please do so, Jakob. I lack the time to lead discussions and beg for permission which might potentially be denied. Asking for permission afterwards at least makes it less of a clear insubordination", Hans Dietrich argues coolly. "Haven't we played this game with calling the Red Cross already?", Jakob asks cautiously. "Hasn't it turned out well after all. You're the gambler, Jakob. This is a calculated risk, but one by which we have much to gain and little to lose, if I have chosen my former and current men wisely for their posts", the young German Captain argues. Jakob finally dons a smile, pats his friend on his good shoulder and leaves with the declaration: "I'll tell Atkins and try my best to keep him from asking for your head, Hans." "What a wonderful friend you are, Jakob", Hans answers half-jokingly, then adds seriously: "Thank you!"

While the curly-haired shorter young officer jogs in the direction of the General's command tent, his taller and leaner friend turns back toward the tanks. Deciding that they should be properly manned and checked by now, the former German Hauptmann gives his signals with his left arm, as his right shoulder is hurting too badly to even consider using it for signaling. On the signal to 'start the motor', the engines of all tanks except for one come to life with a roar. Scowling Dietrich turns in the direction of the only tank not running, when finally the motor starts as well. With the practice of two years in command and requiring this sign language on a daily basis, the tall German officer gives the unspoken command to turn the vehicles and drive in the north-western direction from whence the planes are coming. After all, placing a distraction in the south would be a wasted effort.

His former tank operators are all experienced enough to move the vehicles at walking speed to follow the briskly walking officer in their lead with his pace. Dietrich decides on a valley between several dunes as a believable site for a fake camp and directs the tanks to stand in such a way that they give a clear indication of the rim of the illusionary encampment forming an ovoid shape with several placed in the middle like tents in a bivouac would be. Once content with their location, Dietrich gives the sign to 'stop the motors' which all obey. Soon thereafter the German tank operators followed by their Allied prison guards clamber out of the hot metal vehicles and hop down to the ground. "Meine Herren. Ich danke Ihnen für Ihre Kooperation und ihren selbstlosen Einsatz zum Wohl Ihrer Kameraden und des gesamten Lagers", the German Captain thanks the men for their selfless efforts for the good of their comrades and the whole encampment. All of the German soldiers return their former Hauptmann's salute and bear admiring looks. "Wir bringen Sie nun zum Lager zurück, damit Sie sich dort in den Zelten in Sicherheit bringen können", the tall officer explains that they will lead them back to the camp so that they can take shelter in the tents. Then, he gives the according order to the American soldiers: "Lead the men away back to the prison area, but keep in mind that all of them volunteered to help us and treat them accordingly with respect, gentlemen!"

When they near the camp, several soldiers and officers are awaiting them, namely Jakob Silberblatt along with his superiors General Atkins and Major Turner who both bear scowling expressions. "Get the prisoners back to safety, Sergeant", Dietrich orders Troy, before he squares his shoulders and puts on an expression, as if he would march into a dire battle. "You're still doing your best to protect all your men, get them to safety and keep them out of the line of fire, Captain", the American Sergeant assesses, as he scowls at the assembled brass. "But I would be a goddamn deadbeat as a second in command and as a friend, if I let you walk into that battle without backup or support." The German is so stunned for a few moments that he can just stare back at the American in utter surprise. "Sergeant. This is not your battle. I initiated it by going against your warning, knowing fully well what would await me. You have no obligation whatsoever to support me", the young officer argues grimly. "Don't give me that bullshit, Dietrich! If I stood only behind you, when things go well and you listen to me, I'd not be worth being called a friend at all", Troy argues vehemently. "You're my 'friend on probation', not really my friend like Jakob is, Troy. You have no obligations and I'm willing to release you from them, if this helps to deter you", Dietrich argues, having a bad conscience already to drag the American Sergeant down with him, just because the man is too honorable and selfless to let him go down alone. "Don't even think about that, Captain! You're still too chivalrous for your own good", Troy counters. "And if we keep arguing much longer, Atkins will have both of us court-martialed without giving us a chance to speak, given how angry he looks right now." "Let's hope Brown keeps his word and frees us from jail before that", the German replies with dry sarcasm, as he turns around to face the General which makes Troy smirk briefly. Sighing deeply, the lean young officer marches to meet his fate with the American Sergeant following close behind him, who has his hands balled into fists and is looking for all the world to see angry and willing to fight.