"Captain Dietrich", General Atkins shouts and his voice sounds slightly hysterical. "Have you lost your mind to let German POWs operate their own war machines?" The German Captain takes a straight proud stance, as he meets his gaze with the shorter superior officer steadily and answers with a serious, controlled voice: "The presence of the tanks at the rim of the camp was a grave danger for our own units, as we lack the proper material and experienced men to camouflage them accordingly. Thus, I have come up with a plan that not only frees the camp of the dangerous vehicles, but also provides a distraction by forming an illusionary camp through strategic positioning of the vehicles and thus potentially protecting our original camp. However, almost all American soldiers have already been occupied with duties to camouflage and protect their own tents and vehicles and in addition lack the experience to operate a German tank. Choosing POWs trained and experienced with just this type of operation has been the only logical conclusion. I have only taken handpicked men who have volunteered, have been known to not be Nazis or fanatics and are according to my evaluation of their character reliable to not act aggressively against the camp or the Allied soldiers which they all have proven." After having finished his lengthy and clear explanation, the German Captain continues to stare straight ahead, never leaving his proper stance or lowering his head which he proudly keeps held high.
Atkins assesses the tall and lean young officer from head to toe for almost a full minute, during which his grim expression lightens and gives way to a wry smile. "I wondered what the man looks and sounds like who has defied the German Wehrmacht's HQ for two years keeping defiantly loyal to his own moral principles without committing insubordination too obviously and always weaseling his way out with well-formulated explanations. Before you tell me that I should have known better, when I hired such a man, let me tell you, Captain, that I do not approve of insubordination, but understand your attitude of acting first and discussing the results later better since your last explanation. You will appear in my tent after this situation has been resolved to receive your deserved punishment." The German nods without any emotion registering on his stern face. "Yes, General." Giving a wincing, yet sharp salute, the young officer turns on his heels and stalks off, still keeping his back straight and his head held high.
"Sergeant Troy, stay here!", Atkins orders sternly. Troy almost glares at the General after looking at Dietrich's retreating back with a worried expression. "You have suggested Captain Dietrich to join your unit", the American General confronts the Sergeant unperturbed by his dark scowl. "What is your assessment of his performance?" Troy briefly looks incredulous. "We might be bombed to pieces by some aircrafts pretty soon and you ask me about the Captain's performance?", the American Sergeant asks incredulously. Atkins merely nods with an unreadable expression. "He's honorable, dedicated and loyal, as he's always been. Put his life on the line for us more than once, Hitch and Moffit would be dead without him. Every last member of our unit would follow him to hell and back again", Troy argues vehemently at which Atkins smiles deviously. "That's quite an interesting change of heart, Sergeant, considering a week ago we discussed what type of unit would give a German defector a chance and not kill him out of prejudice. Now the most unruly soldiers this whole unit has to offer follow this German Wehrmacht defector with dedication and loyalty and more than one CO complains that they have men from American, British and Australian units volunteering to join said German officer you told me yourself no commando unit would accept easily if at all, Sergeant." Atkins studies him with an inscrutable expression by now. "Dietrich's better than I've expected at gaining his men's loyalty and respect. He's not just a decent, but really good officer and people, us ordinary enlisted men, see that and appreciate it", Troy argues resolutely.
"What has just happened with those German POWs?", Major Turner inquires about what is their actual worry at hand. "Dietrich's given orders to the Aussies, as you told him. Then he said that we wouldn't have the equipment to camouflage the German tanks. So he came up with this idea, had the prisoners appear for a roll call and gave them a motivational speech. Afterwards he selected the reliable volunteers with his former Leutnant and sent me off to organise guards meanwhile." "You left him alone with the Germans?", the Major asks sharply. "I don't speak German, only started learning a few phrases from the Captain lately. And if anyone would have attacked him, he has a gun and at least a dozen of his former men who'd immediately have fought for his defense." "Thank you, Sergeant. That was quite enlightening. You're dismissed." Atkins orders sternly.
Once the American Sergeant is out of earshot, the General turns to his trusted Major with a serious expression. "Any thoughts, Turner?" "Dietrich's proud and unyielding with the fighting spirit of a young lion", Major Turner mutters to the General. "Even if he has ordered the Sergeant to leave him alone with his former soldiers, I doubt him conspiring against the camp as much as Sergeant Troy. We have to handle him with care though. Not only has he defected for personal reasons and ideals, but also does most of the camp admire the man for just that unyielding attitude by now and it's difficult to dress down a hero without creating a serious problem with the men's morale." "A hero? That's a German defector who has been in camp for only a little more than a week", the General counters his argument, sounding slightly incredulous. Turner replies with a serious expression: "I have spoken with the officers here and what they have heard from their soldiers. He's an honorable and chivalrous officer who has commanded this camp, when its commander was wounded in battle, treated the Brits himself, when they arrived in camp with half their unit injured, and risked his own life for the Australians. Meanwhile the Germans and Italians consider him their patron and protector who guarantees their fair treatment and their families' safety." Atkins scowls. "What is he doing to create such loyalty?" Turner smiles wryly. "What you have just seen, General. Not budging, bending or groveling before his superiors as little as his enemies, standing proud and nobly with the dignity his rank demands. Even the SS would have killed him long before breaking him." Atkins bears a calculating expression. "That's what we have wanted him for in the first place." "You wanted a commando unit officer and you got one those commandos can and do actually respect. However, Dietrich's a unit commander that can inspire soldiers and he could do this in larger units here in North Africa as well. A man with his knowledge and skills would be especially valuable, since Rommel himself mentored him. Do you really think you placed him well, Sir?", Turner dares to ask. "Almost anyone can command a few tanks. This ability of his should help him in gaining support not only from his commando unit, but also for his unit by inspiring resistance fighters or others to join or support them. It's invaluable for what I have in mind for the Captain, even if he is a far from perfect role model soldier, especially for a German officer." Jakob silently listens in on their discussion and assessment of his friend, worrying for Hans not only in the near but also in the further future. Who knows what Atkins is imagining for him.
Troy is joined by Tully and Gotty in his search for their Captain. Finally, they are tipped off to look for him in the Brits' camp part by one of the O'Donnell brothers who takes his chance to inquire about the rumours that the German Captain takes written applications. "That's quite true", Troy confirms. "Dietrich's pretty much as prim and proper as you can get without swallowing a broom and selling all your sense of humor for mad violence, like our Lieutenant Volcano you've seen today." Kevin O'Donnell gives a toothy grin. "Volcano's a truly fitting name for that fellow. Tough luck for you guys to have a First Lieutenant like him. We're just hoping our next Lieutenant won't be like that. Joining your folks looks pretty attractive under the circumstances and Mickey Lakatos had loads of interesting things to say about your lockpicking Jerry Captain." "Don't tell that to him in the face or you'd better not expect him to leave you alive, even less take you in", Troy comments with a grin. "We're looking for our Captain now." "Cheers, fellas. See you later", the Australian turns back to his duty, as they make their way to the British camp part.
Hans Dietrich is coordinating the camouflaging of the remaining British tanks of Major Bracken's unit. Lieutenant Johnson follows him almost constantly and looks truly relieved to let the tall German Panzer Hauptmann give commands which he only confirms for some more hesitant British soldiers. "Did you check that no reflective surfaces remain, Lieutenant?", the Captain inquires sternly. Johnson salutes sharply. "All is handled as ordered, Captain."
Hans Dietrich whirls around startled, reaching for his gun holster on instinct, when Troy puts his hand on the younger man's shoulder. With narrowed eyes the German officer growls: "Kindly refrain from touching me, Sergeant. What do you require?" "You got things covered here pretty well. What about inquiring if Davey's found anything out, Captain?", Troy suggests. The Captain frowns, but finally nods in acceptance. "You're right, Sergeant. I should consult with Captain Boggs. Lieutenant Johnson, you continue with handling things here!" "Yes, Captain Dietrich", Johnson confirms with a sharp salute which the German officer returns with a slightly pained expression.
Then, he turns to make his way to the command tent with a determined pace, only to be addressed by his Sergeant within the first few steps. "Atkins has no right to accuse you of treachery and insubordination." Dietrich sighs wearily. "He has every right to do so. I am a convicted traitor and defector and above all a German officer by upbringing and training. Suspicion and distrust are natural which is why I didn't bother to ask in advance. In this way I didn't have to perform an actual act of insubordination by going against a direct order. So you see that I deserve the reprimand after all." "What makes you so convinced that Atkins distrusts you on principle?", Troy inquires. "Unlike the enlisted men who are driven by sentimentality and their cinema induced illusions of glory and honor the General is not a sentimental fool. Trusting someone like me is absurd for an American General", the German Captain argues with a resigned and fatalistic expression. Troy scowls at the assessment, but cannot really argue with the Captain given that he distrusts the General as well.
When they enter Boggs' command tent, the American Captain looks up sharply and his expression turns from a scowl into a worried frown. "Captain Dietrich, Sergeant Troy. I'm afraid that I have bad news. The Australian patrol observed that Captain Troy's aircraft has crashed." Sam Troy's expression turns from fierce to horrified, as he whirls around, only to find himself stopped by someone putting a hand on his shoulder and gripping his shirt. Glaring at Dietrich for daring to stop him now, he growls: "I need to go out there and see, if he's still alive. Don't try to stop me!" "Sergeant Troy. The Australian patrol unit is already in the vicinity and will check on him immediately and much sooner than you could ever reach the site", the German Captain argues with conviction. "That's exactly what they are doing right now, Sergeant", Boggs aids his colleague in appeasing the distraught American soldier. "What if he needs my help?", Sam Troy protests desperately. "Troy. There is nothing you could do for him medically that the Aussies wouldn't do as well. Leaving the camp now will only put you and all of us in mortal danger, as the approaching aircrafts are obviously not of your", the German officer winces and corrects himself, "our side." "Captain Dietrich is right, Sergeant", Boggs again adds supportively, immensely grateful for Dietrich's presence and handling of the Sergeant. "I can't leave him to die!", Troy growls with anguish and fury. The German Captain's eyes appear tormented and haunted, as he argues: "Troy. Nobody understands better than me that you don't wish to part from your brother in hatred and quarrel. I swear to you that I will go out there with you myself, as soon as the camp and the men within are taken care of after the aerial attack is over. But we have a duty and obligation to all these soldiers who trust us to protect them against their enemies and aid them in injury and need. We must not leave them to die. You can trust Brown's Aussies to do all they can for your brother!" Troy stares at the young officer for several long moments, until he finally realizes that the German Captain has never taken his hand off his shoulder or averted his eyes to meet his gaze. If he knows one thing about Dietrich, then it is that he is absolutely reliable to stand by his given word. With a weary sigh, Troy finally concedes: "Fine, Captain. But we leave, as soon as nobody's in mortal danger in the camp anymore." "You have my word, Sergeant", the German Captain replies with stern honesty. Only after looking the American into the eyes with a last assessing look, does he finally retract his arm and take a step backwards.
Keeping the concerned and stern expression, the German officer turns toward his American colleague. "The camp will be under aerial attack soon. We'd better initiate countermeasures. Sending single sharpshooters out there with bazookas should be better than having the Jeeps drive around and provide actual targets without a large chance to hit their foe. What is the estimated time of arrival of the aircrafts according to the patrol?" Boggs considers Dietrich's suggestions carefully. "They should arrive within the next half hour. Do you think hiding will actually work?" "With the distraction of a shifted camp location in place, it might work", Dietrich argues. "But you're right that having no Jeep driving around and shooting might be suspicious. You require a handful of volunteers to provide a distraction." "I'm in", Troy announces without giving Boggs the chance to answer. Both Captains glare at him for the interruption. "Pettigrew is needed for his skill with the bazooka", Dietrich argues crisply. "You can use Gottschlich as a driver or hire one of the Australians. The O'Donnell brothers are motivated to leave a good impression. Personally, I'd prefer the second option." Troy looks as angry as discontent at the announcement, but sees the reason behind the German Captain's choice of a sharpshooter. If anyone can hit a flying plane with a rocket from the ground, it's Tully.
"Lieutenant Winters and Griffiths will coordinate the Jeeps outside of the camp. Your suggestion is most reasonable, Captain Dietrich", Boggs declares. "Who will coordinate the sharpshooters? They require a different, less mobile and more strategic maneuvering", Hans Dietrich asks him. The American Captain looks at his younger German colleague with worry and hesitation, until he finally makes a decision. "I would send Adams, but he is not as agile as he was in his younger days. Carlos, Baker or Williams lack the experience for such maneuvering. I'm aware that you are injured and not in a totally fit state for quickly running and dodging bullets." The German Captain nods bearing a weary expression. "I will do my duty and try my best to keep the men alive. I doubt you'll find anyone in this camp with as much experience in running and dodging bullets. Your Rats have trained me well after all." "It looks like they're your Rats now. I have no doubt that you will do your best, Captain Dietrich", James Boggs affirms. "That's madness, Captain!", Troy interrupts, glaring at Boggs for his suggestion and Dietrich for accepting it. "You're barely fit enough for normal duty with this injured arm of yours, lest actual battle action. Do you want to die, Dietrich?" Hans Dietrich looks baffled, but recovers quickly. "Although I appreciate your concern, Sergeant, it is not my intention to end my life, but rather to keep your friend Pettigrew along with the other sharpshooters alive", the German Captain argues calmly. "You're my friend as well, Captain, and I don't want to bury you, even less when I might have to bury Davey already and realised too late how right you were with your advise." That the proud German officer does not protest against the words, but looks honestly concerned and caring astounds Boggs almost as much as Sam Troy's reflective attitude. The relationship between the two men before him is as strange as extraordinary.
Dietrich's rational mind wins the struggle against his own sentiments and the German Captain argues calmly: "We have no confirmation that your brother is really dead, Sergeant. You'd better not give up on him too soon. The situation at hand calls for a commanding officer with frontline experience beyond the usual havoc your units produce with their Jeeps. Didn't you yourself provide the argument that you summoned me to take care of the situation between Winters and Brown, because I'm quicker on my feet than Captain Boggs?" Troy bites his lip at having his own argument turned against him. The tall German officer meanwhile shifts his gaze to meet eyes with his American colleague. "As I said, I will follow my orders and honor my duty, Captain Boggs." As Hans Dietrich speaks with conviction, James Boggs sees clearly what the German's friend Lieutenant Silberblatt has meant by saying that the tall young Captain is a German officer to the core. Bound by honor and duty, the younger man would not hesitate to risk his own life for his former enemies, even the ones he does not share a friendship with, as he seems to have with Sam Troy of all people. Boggs blinks and sheepishly asks the younger Captain to repeat his inquiry, as he has been too distracted studying him to catch his words. Dietrich scowls and observes Boggs with a mixture of annoyance and honest concern, before he repeats his questions: "How many weapons do we have available for the attack on aircrafts during flight? Do you have suggestions for qualified sharpshooters apart from Private Pettigrew? After all you are more familiar with your men and their strengths than I am."
Captain Boggs evaluates the questions and searches through the supply lists on his desk. "We should have 8 bazookas available, one per patrol unit. For your other request I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I don't have enough insight into my men's field performance beyond the reports the COs provide me with. From those Privates Higgins and Robertson and Corporals Morgan and Fitzgerald are the only ones coming to my mind right away." Dietrich's scowl and discontent expression have deepened, but the younger German Captain nods in affirmation and salutes. "I will call my men then and try to gather my weapons and qualified marksmen from other factions in camp." Barely waiting for Boggs' consent and own salute he turns on his heels and turns to briskly walk out of the tent, when he finds himself stopped by the older American Captain who calls him back to hand him a pair of binoculars.
After a baffled expression of gratitude, the lean German puts the optical device around his neck with a practiced motion, before finally making his way out of the tent as quickly as possible without loss of dignity. Troy glares at Boggs with an almost hateful expression, as if accusing the American Captain of risking his friend's life unnecessarily. Then, he turns without salutation or greeting. James Boggs is no fool and realizes immediately that whatever power of command he has held over Sam Troy, he has lost completely. He can only pray that the German Captain will survive his mission to keep the unruly Sergeant in check afterwards, or no force in camp would be able to contain him otherwise.
Dietrich has called together his men suggested by James Boggs and recruited another two volunteers who are experienced sharpshooters according to Pettigrew's assessment. "When you retrieve materials, Private, bring a helmet for me as well. I trust your sense of self-preservation and protection more than Troy's and Brown's fashion sense", the German orders with a tinge of sarcasm swinging in his voice. That the German Captain trusts his word to assess someone's qualification as much as Troy's fills the typically introverted Private's heart with pride and Tully quickly takes the lead of the seven men for retrieving the eight bazookas to meet the German Captain at the Northern rim of the camp.
Hans Dietrich meanwhile turns to the Australian camp part and explains his orders and plans briefly to Sergeant Williamson who approaches him. The aboriginal Australian furrows his eyebrows in concentration, then calls out six names, among them Kevin O'Donnell and Michael Lakatos. The two Aussies along with their colleagues appear curious, when they see the German Captain standing with their Sergeant. Dietrich quickly explains what their mission is and asks whether they would wish to volunteer, as he is not an officer of their army. Not a single digger backs down from the challenge and O'Donnell even appears delighted to get this chance to prove himself, while Lakatos elbows him in the side and whispers conspiratorially.
First Lieutenant Winters and Lieutenant Griffiths in their patrol Jeeps accompanied by their soldiers in another six Jeeps await the German Captain at the edge of the camp with grim expressions. "Gentlemen, we have orders to cause distractions and try to distract and if possible eliminate the aerial threat", Dietrich addresses them with a stern tone. "First Lieutenant Winters and Lieutenant Griffiths, you will lead the Jeeps to circle the fake camp to the northwest from here and draw our attackers' attention. Make them believe you want to defend the false camp, do not waste too much ammunition trying to shoot at them, unless they are extremely low, as you risk killing your own comrades through friendly fire." "Yes, Captain", Griffiths confirms the order. "We know what we're doing", Winters growls with slight annoyance, aggression clearly audible in his voice.
Given the amount of anger the man has been through in the last 24 hours, Dietrich decides to let it slip instead of provoking an argument and clearing his own slightly guilty conscience in this way. Sam Troy jumps down from one of the Jeeps after whispering with the driver and his companion to approach the Captain, announcing: "I'd better keep an eye on you, Captain." "Whatever happened to you volunteering for this, Sergeant?", the German officer asks dryly. "Without a driver or anyone from my unit joining me, I fit better with the men from my team", Sam Troy argues. Dietrich is little surprised that the American Sergeant does not want to be separated from his men and thus wants to join Pettigrew again. "We still have an extra bazooka, Sergeant. Private Pettigrew has orders to bring it along", the German officer comments coolly. "You know me better than I do myself sometimes", Troy replies with a grin. "Your sentimentality is almost predictable", the Captain asserts dryly, then turns to the waiting Jeeps: "Take your respective positions, Lieutenant Winters and Griffiths! Unless you have any further questions, you are free to go, gentlemen!" The two officers along with almost all of their soldiers return the German's salute.
When they have disappeared behind the first dune, Tully approaches them, carrying one bazooka over each shoulder and another helmet clipped to his belt. Although his matchstick hides most of his smile, he appears quite content. The American Private's happiness at blowing things up is still disconcerting for the German Captain, but he receives the protective head gear with gratitude. "Hey, Tully. You can hand me that", Troy addresses the Private jovially and takes one of the rocket throwers on his own shoulder. Lakatos, O'Donnell and the other Aussies eye the lean young officer as curiously as the American volunteers. Troy remembers having seen Dietrich wearing a GI helmet before and just like back then, the tall man looks every bit the American officer in spite of his German heritage. "The Jeeps will draw the aerial attackers' attention. Your job gentlemen is to stay hidden until you have a good aim and the plane is low enough to be hit. Shoot and run for cover immediately! I will direct you with signs and keep an eye on the aircrafts at all times", the German officer explains calmly and relays his orders in a matter-of-factual manner. Then he calmly explains several of his signs, among them some for firing a shot, hiding, dodging for cover or general warnings of danger. "Don't the German pilots know your signs as well, Captain?", one of the younger American sharpshooters asks. Dietrich briefly frowns, as he asks himself whether the soldier is trying to make fun of him, but realizes that he is serious indeed. His expression turns to incredulity at the lack of common sense and basic ability to estimate distances. "No need to worry, Private Ripley. By the time they are close enough to see my signs you should have been able to shoot them down already", Dietrich argues with slight sarcasm audible underneath his smooth command tone. "What are we waiting for? Let's shake it!", Troy announces with a whoop that is intended to motivate himself as much as the younger soldiers, even though the German officer still winces slightly.
Once they are in the vicinity of the fake camp and can make out the two Jeep patrols, Hans Dietrich signs his men to spread out among the dunes and take cover hiding from aerial view. The German officer himself remains standing well visible for the marksmen as well as the Jeep crews and observes the sky with concentration while listening intently for the characteristic sound of engines. Only a few minutes later, his diligence is rewarded, as he can make out the first sounds and reflections in the sky, because he knows what to look for and in which approximate direction. Signing all men to pay attention and warning of the approaching enemies, the Captain keeps his binoculars trained at the approaching aircrafts.
Sam Troy observes Dietrich closely, as he has learned by now that the younger man has a much keener sight than most and will give him the indication, when the planes are close enough to try and shoot at them. "This is for Davey", the American Sergeant pledges revenge with fury and grim determination, as he tightens his grip around his weapon. Closeby, Tully appears much more relaxed, focused on his grim task without wasting any thoughts on who he will kill and why, as long as it happens on his CO's order and he can trust the man to not give such an order without thinking the whole thing through properly. Sarge has always been quick and straightforward to order him to shoot. The Captain is far less predictable. The German officer can be straightforward and ruthless as he has been in the German Major's camp, but also calculating and waiting much longer than Troy ever would, until he is sure of his decision, as he has been with the planes the last time. Both their styles have their own merits, if you would ask Tully Pettigrew the two men's collaboration should make their whole unit even better. Although the Private does not personally like the sarcastic smartass of a Jerry officer in the way Troy likes him and even Hitch seems to do, he respects the man greatly for his qualities as a commander, showing respect, honor and compassion to his men and earning all these in return as well.
The roar of the planes' engines gets louder and with the increasing noise level the level of apprehension among the waiting men increases. Finally, Dietrich gives the signal to the Jeeps to start their distraction technique and Winters and Griffiths spur their men on to each provide the better distraction. The German officer can now make out the different airplanes as separate points, but not their distinct shapes. As he counts thirteen planes, his face turns grim. This is a force that can cause severe damage to their camp, if the distraction maneuver does not work. Only a minute later, his face bears a relieved smile, as the lead plane dives down toward their fake camp and the others follow the maneuver with a few seconds delay. Signaling his men that the trap is sprung, the officer continues to observe the situation. Several of the bazooka sharpshooters have now taken up their weapon and try to take aim, including Troy and Pettigrew. The Captain signals to wait and not fire too soon. Troy grits his teeth at the German's hesitation to not shoot, before he's absolutely sure, as he wants nothing more than to annihilate David's murderers. For the first time, he understands Jack Moffit's coldblooded thirst for revenge by killing his enemies in cold blood. Without the Captain's signal to wait he would already have fired the first shot. However futile that might have been, one of the marksmen would have hit something, even if most of them would have failed.
Hans Dietrich's heart clenches briefly in despair, as he makes out the shape of s Fieseler Storch as the leading plane. The probability that this is not an enemy squadron attacking is dwindling toward zero faster than the height of the airplanes is dropping, as they dive down. Only that Air Commodore George-Irving has flown such a plane at his first and last visit to the camp keeps his caution alive to not give the signal to fire at will, even if he can practically feel Troy's and several others' expectant stares boring into him.
Before the planes get into close enough range for the bazookas and for him to recognize the exact colours, a series of shots rings out. The noise that has announced doom for him and his men more often than he cares to count or remember makes the German Captain flinch briefly, as he whirls around to spot the source of the sound. First Lieutenant Winters, who else, is standing in the back of his Jeep and wildly firing into the air which makes the planes quickly change their maneuver and direction from downwards to sidewards and slightly up. While the main squadron stays further up and out of the guns' range, the leader circles their position and tries to circumvent the Jeeps by turning toward the left side.
Dietrich observes the style of flight intently and is assured within the next half minute that whoever is flying this plane is a talented and experienced pilot. His own experience with assessing flight styles is far too limited however to recognize whether this is George-Irving or somebody else or even whether this is typical for British or German pilots. But as long as his doubt remains, he does not wish to fire at their own support force knowing better than most the value and scarcity of air support which has dwindled further and further for the German side in the past months and is another reason why he still has some remaining doubts that this is a German attack force. Generalfeldmarschall Kesselring barely has enough planes left to support Generalfeldmarschall Rommel during important battles. With the exception of having beaten Major Graf von Stolberg's forces and housing an American General and an American as well as a British Major, their camp holds nothing of value to justify an air strike. But he has caused enough fights with his American allies today already and also his own doubts remaining, if von Stolberg still has supporters that might send an air force to help him flee, not knowing about the fate he has already met at the hands of the Arabs. Torn between these two positions and evaluations, he hesitates to give the command to shoot with the bazookas.
"What are you waiting for, Captain?", Troy shouts furiously. "Those goddamned murderers gotta pay!" "Wait until I can make out the tail colour, Sergeant!", Dietrich shouts back in a more professional tone. "I don't want to shoot at our allies. Also, if you call a soldier killing another in honest battle a murderer, then we are all murderers as we stand here." "Don't play the moraliser with me, Captain Smartass! I don't like that holier-than-thou attitude!", Troy spits angrily. "Get a hold of yourself, Troy! Neither do you know whether your brother is really dead, nor if the men in these planes are really our enemies. Spare me this wild west attitude of shooting first and asking questions later!", the lean German Captain snaps back, by now unnerved himself. Meanwhile his eyes have never left the plane in flight and finally with the help of the binoculars he can make out a familiar colouring of blue, red and white which is definitely not Nazi Germany's national colours or the shape of the Hakenkreuz. "Hold your fire! This is Air Commodore George-Irving's plane. I repeat. Don't shoot at the British plane!", Hans Dietrich bellows the orders in his loudest command tone applied in battles and supports the message by giving the hand signal as well.
While the bazooka sharpshooters follow his order and cautiously lower their weapons, the Jeeps or rather one particular Jeep do not seem to see or heed the command. Winters continues to randomly shoot in the air and by now even his own fellow patrol cars have fallen back to stay out of his range and aim. "Has he lost his mind completely? Volcano is almost too flattery for such a man", the German growls furiously which draws the attention of several of the American Privates and Corporals, some of whom openly smirk at the comment. "What should we do, Cap?", Tully asks. "Fire a warning shot", Troy suggests. "That's the only language Volcano and Brass Knuckle understand." "Are you seriously suggesting to me to shoot at American officers and their men from the LRDP, Troy?", Dietrich asks slightly incredulously, adding with dry sarcasm: "Do you want to get rid of me by having me courtmartialed for treason?" "Why should anyone do that, if you're protecting the Brit?", the American Sergeant asks indignantly. "Have you forgotten that I'm a German defector who already has earned a valid death sentence in one major army, Troy?", the Captain inquires with a dark and tormented tone. "Volcano's still shooting", Tully interrupts the escalating discussion. Hans Dietrich grits his teeth and finally asks wearily: "Can you strike the sand near their vehicle without causing them damage or harm to draw their attention, Private?" Troy stares at the German in disbelief to have taken his suggestion into account in spite of his protest. "Sure, Cap", Tully affirms and already takes up his bazooka in expectation of the command. "Don't hit that Jeep, Pettigrew! This is meant as a warning", Dietrich orders sternly, then signals him to shoot.
If there is one skill one should not doubt in Tully Pettigrew, it is his ability to shoot with great precision. The Private strikes the sand merely 13 feet to the left of the vehicle and the impact shakes the gunner and driver visibly. However, instead of being deterred and heeding Dietrich's clear signs to stand down and stop firing, the gunner redirects his gun fire toward them. "What the hell's happening?", Troy barks lividly, as he ducks for cover like the rest of them. "Next time we just blow up this bastard." Hans Dietrich has thrown himself flat on the ground to escape the gun fire and drawls toward the Sergeant: "Do your worst, Troy. After shooting at us in spite of clear signals to cease fire, we are not to blame for further aggression." "I can't get out of my cover to shoot, unless I get a distraction", the American Sergeant growls, angry more at the situation as a whole and the American officer specifically than at the German Captain who offers: "I'll provide you with a distraction, as long as you can be faster than they shoot me with that gun, Sergeant." "Have you lost your mind now, Dietrich?", Troy snaps back. "Kindly refrain from violating my name and suggesting my lack of sanity", the German snaps back. "You get up and take your aim at the Jeep, as do you Private Higgins, O'Donnell and Lakatos. You, Corporals shoot either to the left or right into the dunes to cause further distraction so that I can get back into cover behind this dune within a few seconds." That sounds much better and to everyone's liking not like the German is actively trying to get himself killed in a quick heroic death.
Merely six seconds later, the Captain shouts the signal and a split second before the others rolls to his feet and finds himself targetted immediately. The first bullets still pass by rather widely over his head, but the next get closer at a horrifyingly fast rate. Although already dodging for cover behind the dune, the German feels an impact against his head throwing him backward as if he has been kicked by a horse and his consciousness immediately fading into blackness. Tully is close enough to the young officer and no longer among the active marksmen, since he has fired his shot already, to be able to observe that a single .50 bullet hits Dietrich's helmet, ricochets off it, but in doing so holds enough momentum to knock the man out within a split second. Luckily he has already been in the motion of dodging behind the ridge, when his body continues with the movement although changing the position, as he is thrown backwards further behind the dune.
Asking for the helmet has been life saving for the German officer, Tully realizes immediately, when he sees the deep indentation left by the bullet after rolling the unmoving man onto his back from the position he has fallen in. Blood runs down the German's face, making the whole scene look gory. Removing the chin strap and helmet, Tully pulls his miraculously intact binoculars to the side to open the topmost buttons of the officer's jacket and shirt and check the lean Captain for a pulse at the neck. Once he is sure the tall German is still alive, he starts checking the unconscious officer's head injury, where in addition to tearing the previous scratch at his hairline a bleeding wound gapes now where the indentation has been. The familiar sound of an explosion indicates that Troy and his collaborators have finally struck a hit. The Sergeant falls to his knees at Tully's side less than ten seconds later and cries out with an almost frantic tone: "No. This can't be true!" Troy's expression looks horrified and grief-stricken. "Sarge, Cap's just knocked out, but these head wounds bleed like a faucet", Tully mutters in what he considers a consoling tone. When he feels a light movement of the body underneath his hand, he shouts louder: "No, he's stirring." Troy barks a mirthless laugh that still resonates with his relief: "Not so easy to kill that fox after all."
Both fixate an arm of the German, as Dietrich comes to, groaning with obvious pain. They have learned the hard way that it is better to be safe than sorry with that fellow. Struggling only briefly on instinct, the Captain's orientation, recognition of the two Rats and his memories of recent events settle in fast enough to quit his efforts quickly and not cause himself any further harm in this way. "Genius idea to take that helmet", Troy comments with honest relief audible in his voice. "Pettigrew's got the smartest choice of headgear", the German comments wryly and with a wince feels his hurting head with his left hand that Tully has wisely released. "Thanks, Cap", the Private practically beams at him. Maybe he will have to revise his previous thoughts and he does like the Jerry a bit after all, when he is nice and civil instead of sarcastic.
Dietrich has lifted his hand to find out about the sticky substance that he can feel drenching his hair at the front of his head where he has been hit and which now is running over his forehead with some constant trickle disturbing his right eye that gets hard to see with. "You need a hospital now", Sam Troy demands. "A pressure bandage will have to suffice, as I'm needed here at the moment", the German argues calmly. "You almost gave me a heart attack with that stunt of yours. I thought you were dead!", the American Sergeant growls in an accusatory tone that cannot hide the underlying concern and worries. "Do you intend to kill me yourself to assure it stays that way after all these stories about werewolves and vampires?", Dietrich counters with dry sarcasm, as a worried Sergeant Troy fussing over him is even more unbearable than an angry one. "I'll hit you with that silver cross of yours later, when I don't have to worry you'll collapse, once you make it to your feet", Sam Troy snaps at him in annoyance. In his stubborn phases the German is just as bad as his little brother Davey has been as a child and teenager or even at a later age just to get on people's nerves.
"What are the others from Winters' patrol unit doing?", Dietrich inquires, ignoring the pounding in his head, as he presses his palm against the wound. "They already fell back before. When we hit the Jeep after he shot you, they just turned tail and went off towards Brass Knuckle's guys", Troy answers surprisingly matter-of-factually, although he still keeps a concerned look focused on the Captain. When the German tries to rise with his eyes screwed tightly shut in obvious pain, the American Sergeant snaps however: "What do you think you're doing?" "Help me to my feet, Sergeant. I need to provide signals to the rest of the unit and patrol cars, lest they think they are under suspicion of murdering an officer of their own army. What is the plane doing?" Troy bears as much of a sheepish expression as several men around. They have completely forgotten about the plane. "Still circling us, Captain", Kevin O'Donnell reports. "Might be good to show them, we're the good lads, Captain, lest they start shooting at us as well", his friend Michael Lakatos suggests, knowing the German Captain well enough from their joint mission to dare address him directly and make suggestions. "That we should do, Private Lakatos", Dietrich confirms.
His further answer is stopped by a soft groan of pain that escapes through his clenched jaws, when Sam Troy physically hauls the younger man to his feet at his good shoulder. Since the German is swaying like a drunken seaman on landleave, Troy keeps his hand clamped on the Captain's shoulder in a tight grip until he has regained his stability and balance. "You can let go, Sergeant", the drawn sounding German officer finally orders with a moderate tone devoid of anger or sarcasm. Troy stares at the Captain with slight shock registering on his face, pointedly ignoring the swaying man's order to let go of him. Dietrich's head wound is bleeding freely, when he is not putting pressure on it which apparently he is not able to maintain with his shaking left hand.
Feeling the lean Captain swaying more heavily again, Troy grabs his shoulder harder and starts to direct him towards the camp. "I have my duties to finish here, Sergeant", the German protests with less vigor than the American Sergeant would have hoped and is barely putting up resistance against the American's handling of the younger man. "You're barely able to stay on your feet, lest perform your duties", Troy snaps. "The pressure bandage would be the faster and better option, Troy", Dietrich still argues and Troy sees some reason behind this. By now the German's brown hair looks red at the front where it has been stained with his blood and the trickle of blood over his forehead has increased enough that he cannot really see more than blurs through his right eye and several droplets are dripping down his chin onto his jacket.
"Tully!", Troy shouts and pushes the staggering Captain in the direction of the others, as he changes his plan. Tully Pettigrew has turned around to look at the source and reason of Troy's outcry. Seeing the German officer's bloodied face is enough to tip him off. "We need a pressure bandage", Dietrich still argues more or less coherently, while Troy looks mainly exasperated. "Lie down, Captain!", Tully instructs and sees the German tense at his harsh tone, but he finally obeys when his reasonable mind wins out. "Don't let him fall asleep", Tully mutters to Troy. "He's likely got a concussion and we don't want to miss any damage to the brain."
The whirring sound of Jeeps' wheels announces the arrival of some of the other units. Several shouts are exchanged which blur together for the injured German who leans back against the sand of the dune and closes his eyes. "Don't fall asleep!", Sam Troy shakes his left shoulder rather more intensely than necessary. "Refrain from shaking me, Sergeant!", the Captain snaps indignantly at the treatment. "Sorry. Doctor's order. You've got a concussion. You mustn't fall asleep", Troy argues. Grudgingly seeing the reason behind this argument, when his slightly foggy brain catches up with the words, the young officer growls: "Try to follow this order without dislocating my good shoulder, Sergeant!"
"We've got a first aid pack from one of the Jeeps", Tully announces. "We'll have you patched up immediately, Captain", Troy assures the younger officer at the news. The American Private kneels on his right side, while Sam Troy keeps his hand on the German's left shoulder but without the tight grip. "Press down here!", Tully orders and only when a hand reaches out from behind his head does Hans Dietrich realize in his dazed state that another person is kneeling behind his head. "Who's there?", he mutters with a slightly worried tone. "Kevin O'Donnell, Sir", the Aussie answers with a cheerful tone. "Looks pretty gory, but these head wound always bleed like hell. You'll see, we'll have you up and steadied again pretty soon, Captain." With the pressure applied to his head wound, the young German's vision blurs briefly, not from more blood in his eye, but from the acute pain of his wound. One of his helpers steadies his head in the neck, while Pettigrew wraps a bandage around his head tightly several times. By the time the Private has finished, the dizziness has indeed diminished for his patient and the pain level immediately becomes bearable, when nobody presses directly onto the wound, only the bandage provides a constant base pressure. The lean officer flinches, when somebody touches his face unexpectedly. "Don't worry", Troy mutters, "I just gotta wash all that blood off your face so you can see something again." Muttering an expression of gratitude, Dietrich asks for a handkerchief or something else to wipe off the blood which someone puts in his hand quickly.
Half a minute later, the German officer feels better. The throbbing pain in his head is not gone but has diminished to a bearable background noise, his face and uniform are not sticking with blood anymore, although his jacket looks slightly drenched and some bloodstains still remain. With no further blood flowing onto his face, his eyes are both able to see clearly again and his dizziness has subsided enough to allow him to stay on his feet and even move without appearing like a severely inebriated alcoholic, although he actually appreciates Troy providing him with a steady support.
"What's gotten the Volcano so mad as to shoot at you?", Troy wonders openly. Dietrich looks truly clueless. "I have not the least idea. A few minutes earlier, when we had the briefing of all units I could detect no murderous sentiment, although he sounded aggressive. Winters is ... was almost as refined in hiding such thoughts as you are, Sergeant." Several soldiers bear worried expressions at their Captain's slip of tongue that would have happened to them as well. Now that he is shocked out of his worst state and has had time to regain his balance, the German shrugs out of Troy's grip who lets him go to use his uninjured arm for signaling to the other Jeep units as well as the plane which is closing in on them now. At such close range, all of them can see now that the Stork's sides have been repainted to bear the British Union Jack instead of the German Reich's Swastika. "Go and check on the Jeep's wreck for survivors and the other men of the unit. Don't engange in fights, if you can avoid it, as you're all Allied soldiers!", Dietrich orders loud and clear to all his men in range and the Aussies and American soldiers scurry off like scattered Jerboas, the desert rats which serve as namesakes for their units.
"If they didn't shoot Davey down, why did he crash?", Troy sounds worried and concerned, as he observes the Allied plane, staying next to the Captain and within range to grab him at any time. "Hasn't he proven to us only yesterday that he does not require help for crashing his plane, Sergeant?", the German asks with slight irony, then adds in a more serious tone: "All manner of things can cause a plane to crash out here without enemy attacks having to be involved. I hope that the Air Commodore can provide us with the answer to this question and the patrol has reported by now, whether they could save him." "You were right, Captain. Only when something happens do we realize what's really important. I couldn't bring myself to just swallow my pride and forgive Davey only today in the morning, now I can't understand why I didn't do that already", Troy argues.
"Captain Sherlock", one of the Australians returned from the investigation of the wreckage addresses the German and Dietrich grits his teeth to not snap at the man, settling for glaring at Troy instead who wears a grin that is absolutely inappropriate for the occasion. "You've got to see this. The Lieutenant's dead and pretty much torn up. We saw his dog tags, but we didn't touch him, as you didn't want us to touch anything last time", the man who is obviously a veteran of the rescue mission argues. "The other guy though, the driver, didn't have any dog tags." "Are you sure that you have looked properly?", the German Captain demands to know with a controlled tone of voice. "Pretty sure. Also his head's still connected to the part of his body beneath, so he shouldn't have lost them", the soldier argues. "Get me to him. I need to look at his left arm and shoulder!", Dietrich orders sternly and the Aussie scurries off, shouting a strange variation of the order to the others of the search party: "Find the left arm and shoulder for Captain Sherlock, lads!" If they require a search party for his arm, although they have the head and at least part of the torso, this will be a gruesome sight, the young officer mentally prepares himself by taking a deep breath.
"I found something!", one of the Australian soldiers shouts. An American turns away and starts retching. The Aussie brings an arm to Dietrich that obviously belongs to a younger man than Winters with fair reddened skin that is barely suntanned and blond hair where visible. But most prominent in the eyes of the German Captain is a tattoo on the upper arm which is not the one Hans Dietrich has intended to look for, but no less clear for marking the man as a Nazi, as it resembles the Swastika of the Third Reich. The tall officer tenses and pales at the sight and the implication that a spy from either the SS or a German commando unit has inflitrated their camp. "Where are the Jeep and the other remains of the bodies?" The change of the German Captain's tone from calm and controlled to harsh, gritted out between clenched jaws tips even the soldiers unable to see the arm off that something is clearly not right.
"What's going on, Captain?", Troy demands to know. "That's exactly what I intend to find out now, as far as possible, Sergeant", Dietrich growls with a grim, yet determined expression. His own injuries completely forgotten and ignored in the light of the potential danger for the whole camp, Troy has to steady the younger man, when the lean German crouches at the side of the Lieutenant's body that has been catapulted out of the Jeep by the impact of the strike and has to struggle with the vertigo coming from the quick change of position. "Easy, Captain. You mustn't pass out on us, as we need your skills as an investigator here. I'm absolutely clueless how to find out what could have happened here and how this is connected to the arm of a Nazi guy", Troy argues with a more moderate tone than Dietrich would have expected. After feeling steady enough, the German opens his eyes again to study the Lieutenant's body more closely. In spite of his recent death, Winters' skin still looks red from the increased blood pressure, as it has during the morning and yesterday evening, when he has been extremely agitated.
"What has happened here? Who shot Winny?", Lieutenant Griffiths shouts, as he arrives with his Jeep now and jumps from the back to run toward the German Captain. "He attacked us and almost shot me. Also, his driver had a Swastika tattoo", Dietrich answers with a forced controlled tone, as he points towards the bandage around his head. "What? How? Why?", Griffiths sputters incoherently, still in shock over his comrade's death at the hand of other LRDP members. "Granted, he has surpassed even your usual level of eloquence, Sergeant", the German officer mutters quietly with dry sarcasm in Troy's direction. Then, in a louder and more moderate tone, the Captain explains to the distraught officer: "That is exactly what I am trying to find out now, Lieutenant. Please stay away from the evidence, before I could have a proper look." Griffiths briefly looks stunned and stares at the younger officer dumbstruck, before taking a few steps backwards and eyeing the German curiously like the rest of the men.
Dietrich scowls and returns to his checking of the body, uniform and pockets which reveals nothing helpful for the investigation. Finding a lighter and some cigarettes triggers some unhappy memories with Metzlich that the Captain shoves to the back of his mind with some effort which has sweat drenching his head bandage. Troy unlike the rest understands why the young German officer tenses and pales at the sight of the cigarettes, eyeing the scars visible along the younger man's exposed collarbone, if one knows where to look. Although aching to help, the American Sergeant gives the German a few seconds to come to terms on his own which he does. Dietrich scowls, as also the Lieutenant's arms bears no marks of a needle incision that the Captain could recognize right away at any exposed part or where the uniform has protected the limb during the impact and fall.
"Nothing to find on him. The German is the more interesting one to investigate though", Dietrich mutters. Seeing Griffiths and the soldiers surround him with worried expressions, he addresses the Lieutenant: "You may bring the First Lieutenant's body back to camp now with all due honours. The medics should check him for needle incisions which I might have overlooked." Griffiths salutes respectfully to the German officer. "We'll take care of that right away, Captain." Then, he starts bellowing orders to his men to scurry to the Jeep to retrieve a stretcher.
Troy meanwhile helps the German Captain to his feet, as the younger man struggles with the shift of position and the dizziness coming along with it. "Once you're finished with checking your evidence, Sherlock, I'll get you to sickbay right away", the American Sergeant states with determination. Too proud to ask for help, the German takes a staggering step that might have landed him on the ground, if Troy would not have tightened his grip around his left shoulder again, supporting the taller man's weight mostly. "Just like my idiot little brother", Troy comments, before his own words register with him and a pained expression takes over his facial features. "They'll look out for him. If he wasn't shot down, he has a good chance of surviving", Dietrich comments to appease the Sergeant mainly, as he has no idea whether his speculation actually holds true.
Standing in front of the smouldering Jeep, the German officer can clearly make out where it has been hit and how the Lieutenant has been thrown out of the vehicle, while the driver has been locked within and torn apart along with the car. The Australians standing near Lakatos and O'Donnell whisper among themselves, when Troy supports the tall Captain while marching around the car. The impact of their missiles tells little, but the driver's body is still mostly inside the Jeep. Looking closely at the man's battered face, Hans Dietrich recognizes that he has blond hair characteristic of someone of Northern European heritage which however also could hold for Americans, as Hitchcock and Pettigrew prove clearly. "Check his pockets, if you can find anything useful within, Sergeant!", the Captain finally orders, realizing that Troy stands a better chance than he to extract something from the mangled body. "Can you stay on your feet, Captain?", the American Sergeant asks with a worried tone. "I'll manage", the German mutters, as he leans against the Jeep's side to steady himself. This investigation is taking its toll on him, but important for the camp.
Troy rummages through the pockets of the man's jacket and shirt and produces apart from the usual documents which are heavily scorched and drenched with blood, a lighter and cigarettes and furthermore a small cylinder with red and blue color and a name tag that makes the Captain's blood run cold, 'Pervitin'. "Give me that cylinder!", the German officer speaks with urgency and audible edginess. Eyeing the lean Captain curiously, Troy hands over the cylinder and immediately formulates his question: "What's this, Captain?" Dietrich scans the words underneath the brand name 'L-Phenyl-2-methylamino-propan' and quickly unscrews the cap of the container. Inside are only two more tablets left of the drug many in the Wehrmacht call 'Panzerschokolade' or 'Stuka-Pillen' depending on whether they belong to the infantry or the Air Force of the German army. "I suppose this is the reason for Lieutenant Winters' strange behaviour resulting in his death, Sergeant", the German officer speaks with a thoughtful expression. Then, determination settles in and his voice adopts its stern command tone: "Troy, get me a Jeep and bring me to Captain Boggs immediately! Privates O'Donnell and Lakatos, you have my direct order to inform Captain Brown to meet us for an emergency consultation in Captain Boggs' office tent. Privates Pettigrew and Higgins, you inform Lieutenant Johnson of our British allies about this meeting and invite him as well! Corporal Morgan and Fitzgerald, you inform Major Turner and General Atkins that an emergency consultation will be held in Captain Boggs' office tent! It is important that one of them joins us as well and as soon as possible." The Australians and Americans addressed salute at their orders, even Tully is sloppily providing the military gesture.
While the German has relayed his orders with precision, Troy has hijacked a Jeep from Winters' former unit, shooed the soldiers out of it and is driving it for the Captain to get in on the left side. Seeing the American Sergeant's questioning look, Dietrich quickly deters him. "I will answer all questions, but better in the larger circle than repeating myself several times." Although the German would greatly wish to just lean back and relax given his throbbing head and dizziness, Troy's wild driving style that threatens to catapult him out of the vehicle more than once within the less than 2 minutes drive back to camp completely destroys this idea. Swearing to never let Sam Troy drive again, as long as he values his life, Hans Dietrich almost jumps out of the seat as soon as they have halted in front of Boggs' tent and the German quickly has to grab the windshield to provide him with support. "I'll stay with Pettigrew as my driver from now on or even Hitchcock. But you're an even greater menace behind a steering wheel than behind your gun, Troy!" "Come on, Captain. These dunes are not like a paved road after all", Troy argues. "That's no justification to drive in the manner your brother is flying!", the German counters with a shudder, before adding in an apologetic tone: "I'm sorry, Troy. I didn't mean to bring this up." Troy briefly glares before accepting the honest apology which is rare enough for the Captain to give so lightly.
Called by the noise, James Boggs quickly comes out of the tent and stares at the Jeep, the scowling Sergeant and the swaying German Captain with a head bandage in slight disbelief. "What has happened?" "One of your men shot at me. Business as usual in the last year", Dietrich bites out with sarcasm, unnerved by the in his eyes idiotic question and the tormenting drive he has just behind him. "This can't be true", Boggs stutters slightly shocked. "I was under the impression that you sent me specifically because of my quick speed at running and my experience with dodging bullets", the German Captain argues sarcastically, while James Boggs bears a guilty expression. "We will report to you shortly how wise this choice has been. Also the planes are indeed Air Commodore George-Irving and his Brits from the RAF. You should send a welcome committee for them after First Lieutenant Winters shot at them as well as at me. My men had to shoot him and his driver to save all our lives." "If he hadn't asked Tully for a helmet, he'd be dead", Troy adds for good measure, glaring at Boggs for putting the German at risk through his order, Dietrich for having risked his own life with his distraction and the camp out of general annoyance. "You have my gratitude for lending me these." Dietrich points at the binoculars around his neck, but requiring his good arm to support himself on the Jeep keeps him from actually handing them back. Boggs eyes the younger man with actual worry, not only because of the state his fellow Captain is in, but also because of the events he has just briefly reported. The American Sergeant beats him to physically approaching the German officer however. Seeing that Dietrich still looks pale and drawn, while leaning against the Jeep's windshield heavily, Troy unbidden takes his left arm over his shoulder to support some of his weight and help him get inside the tent. "I'm able to walk", the younger Captain protests rather weakly. "With the steadiness of my brother after a night in the saloon. Come on. Don't be more stubborn than Davey!", Sam Troy scolds him in a friendly tone that turns sorrowful quickly, as thoughts of David's death come back to haunt him.
Observing the strange pair with obvious bafflement at their relationship, Boggs turns to the Sergeant who keeps his grip around the German officer's torso to keep him upright more easily: "We actually have news of your brother, Sergeant. The Australian patrol got him out of the plane, before he suffered from more severe burns, but he suffered grave injuries from the crash. They reported that they already bring him directly to us within the next hour. Doctor Andrews and his team are prepared and will look after him immediately." Troy enthusiastically squeezes the German Captain's shoulder who has no chance of escaping him anyways. "You heard that? They saved Davey." "I'm glad for you, Troy", Dietrich comments in an honestly friendly tone that turns more sarcastic, as he continues: "Don't take this as an excuse to kill me instead." Troy smiles widely in relief and is not deterred by the German Captain's wry comment. "After shocking me almost as much as Davey, you'd deserve it", the American Sergeant counters with a grin. "You should have thought of this way to solve your problems earlier", comes the dry reply. "Go inside and stop talking nonsense, Captain", Troy orders in a friendly tone, as he helps the younger man into the tent, while Boggs orders a welcome committee under First Lieutenant Adams to the landing area of the pilots.
"Hey, Sammy. What did you do to my favourite Jerry Captain?", Brown asks with a tinge of worry in his voice, as he enters the tent and catches sight of the German Captain. "I got shot by a senior member of the LRDP. Typical fate of Jerry Captains around here", Dietrich snaps back at him. "Really? Why would they do that except for their whole unit deserting them to join you", the Australian asks, still preserving his humor in spite of his worry. The younger man's head wound does look serious after all given the tight pressure bandage and the necessity for Troy to support him to stay upright. "We will discuss this immediately, as soon as everyone is here." By the time Lieutenant Johnson joins them almost simultaneously with Major Turner, Captain Boggs has returned to the tent and is discussing with Dietrich whether or not the proud German will sit down in a chair during the meeting given his injury. The Major finally orders the younger officer to sit down for his own benefit and that of his wounds, ending this discussion efficiently.
"Captain Dietrich. I want a full report of what has happened. Were you injured during the distraction maneuver of the air raid?", Major Turner asks with a stern gaze, as he eyes their latest troublesome addition to the officers' corps with some concern. The German officer collects himself, before providing a detailed recount of their coordinated strategy, the planes' maneuvers and his identification of the leader as British, not German. Then, the lean Captain continues with the thorough description of the unexpected attack against all of them through one of their own officers, their contermaneuver resulting in his injury and the ensuing investigation revealing the influence of a German drug and the driver as a German agent, even a Nazi sympathizer. The injured young officer holds out the cylinder with the pills as evidence which the Major takes, studies with furrowed brows and then passes it on to Captain Boggs.
"How do you know the effect of this drug so well, Captain? You're not a medic after all", Turner inquires with a serious expression. "I have seen the drug in effect before or heard about it mostly", Dietrich mutters looking still slightly shaken by the recount of the events and the finding of this particular drug on a Nazi agent. "With the SS?", Troy who stands protectively behind his Captain's seat snarls, earning reprimanding glares from many senior officers. "No, Sergeant. This is not meant for torture, but was applied frequently among regular German soldiers during the Blitzkrieg in France, so frequently that soldiers even call it 'Panzerschokolade', which literally means 'tank chocolate'. Pervitin is a drug they gave the men to keep them marching and fighting beyond exhaustion and caring who they killed and why. Many even acquired it on their own. Some of them marched for days without pause", the German officer explains, looking obviously distraught at the descriptions he provides. "You fought in France. Did you take the stuff as well?", Sam Troy asks with concern sounding in his voice beating some of the officers to asking the same question that is obviously occurring to more than one person in the room.
"No, I didn't. I prefer to be in control of my mental capacities", Dietrich replies with a sigh. "They wouldn't give such a drug to officers and even less of the artillery. It's not a smart idea to cloud the mind of the men directing the large guns after all. But I've seen the symptoms among the infantry soldiers often enough: sweating, aggressive behavior, being overly nervous, tetchy or showing complete indifference to their surroundings, neither eating nor sleeping, up to hallucinations and extremely high blood pressure resulting in reddening of skin. I wonder when Winters was first drugged with this." Boggs looks almost as concerned as his German second in command. Asking such a question is indeed unsettling.
"I wonder why you haven't won this war yet with such a miracle drug", Turner adds thoughtfully, then becomes aware of his fauxpas and adds quickly. "I mean why Germany has not won or has more of a clear advantage, for example here in the desert." The German Captain for once does not react angrily or affronted, as his eyes appear haunted and his whole posture speaks of worry and pain. "Because this drug has its price and I'm not talking about Reichsmark. The state the soldiers were in after taking this for longer intervals was ... disconcerting, even horrifying, as some of the infantry officers serving in French divisions have told me. Some men were so out of their minds that they were unable to be used for reasonable work or engaged in interactions for days afterwards", Dietrich's own horror and disgust at the description is obvious from his tone. "I met some of them, when I was on convalescence in a Parisian hospital after receiving my shoulder wound. They were barely recognizable as human beings at times. That is the reason why Generalfeldmarschall Rommel forbid its usage for the Afrikakorps in spite of hunger, thirst and exhaustion being more fearsome foes than the enemy soldiers at times."
"The more pressing question is whether we have more than one kraut spy and saboteur among us", Brown states coolly and immediately adds in the direction of the scowling Dietrich: "No offense, Captain Dietrich. It wasn't meant as an insult against you and you're not under suspicion." "None taken", Dietrich replies with a moderate tone that still carries his worry about the whole situation. "I consider two plausible scenarios for the German spy or commando. First, he could be a survivor of Major von Stolberg's scouting unit who has been forced to hide among our forces after the rest of his unit has been captured or killed. The lack of a dog tag, German or American, would support this. However, sabotaging the negotiations with the Arabs or trying to free the prisoners would have been the better strategy in this case than drugging Lieutenant Winters and provoking him into attacking his allies. The second option is that he has already infiltrated one of the units in this camp previous to ending up here. Given his forged documents with an American false identity, it is likely that this has been with the General's unit, Major Turner, as Captain Boggs' unit is too small and soldiers know each other from sight and would have recognized an infiltrator more quickly, unless he has already been transferred here under a false identity", the German officer argues calmly and matter-of-factually. "Your logic is undeniable, Captain Dietrich. Do you have any identification of the man?"
"As I said the soldiers found no dog tags, although they searched diligently. Sergeant Troy retrieved his papers however. Would you please hand them to the Major, Troy", the young Captain answers smoothly and indicates for Troy to hand the scorched, blood-drenched documents over to Turner. The American senior officer frantically skips through the papers immediately after receiving them and scowls. "These are almost unreadable." "Indeed. If they would have been readable, we would already have provided you with a fake name of the potential culprit, Major", Dietrich comments smoothly with only a slight tinge of sarcasm. "However Captain Brown's question remains as our main concern, whether the man acted alone or as part of a larger group of spies and infiltrators. In the latter case you would have to check every soldier and officer in camp for markings or tattoos identifying them as Nazis." Turner pales slightly at the words and their implication and groans: "This is a logistical and troop morale catastrophe." "Only if you tell them the whole truth which would tip off the men you're looking for and is not an option anyways", Hans Dietrich argues coolly. "Order medical check-ups after Lieutenant Winters has been killed because of an unknown drug. In that way you can check every man's torso and arms for markings and tattoos without drawing attention, as this would be a rather standard procedure for a medical examination."
Everyone in the tent stares at him now. "That is a remarkably efficient idea which is easy to execute", the Major admits. "You obviously have experience with such situations given how quickly you came up with it", Brown assesses. The German Captain smiles wryly and his voice is drenched with sarcasm, as he answers: "You can thank your own commando units for training me so well through infiltrating and sabotaging countless of my camps and bases." "Unfortunately, the General is not open to consider employing you in counterintelligence rather than as a commando unit Captain, as you would fit there excellently by now", Major Turner comments almost sadly. Troy glares at him, protesting: "You can't just take away our Captain, now that we've become accustomed to him!" "Troy, pretend to be a soldier honoring hierarchies for five minutes!", the German admonishes him. "This is not a serious discussion anyways, as the General will overrule all of us in the end." "If he transfers you off, I'll just apply for your unit", the American Sergeant states stubbornly. "Good you have Moffit to help you write your application letter", the German counters dryly which the Sergant only answers with a glare, while the others look quite baffled. "You're taking written applications now?", Boggs comments highly amused to which Brown adds bemused: "I was there, when he told this to my soldiers who appeared a little shocked. A devious way of trying to deter the poor enlisted men, I have to grant to that, Captain Dietrich."
"Will you be able to arrange everything with the medical personnel, Captain Dietrich?", Major Turner directs their attention back to their acute problems at hand. "I can do this immediately, since I will have to got there right after this meeting has finished to be checked", the German answers calmly. "You haven't even been checked yet?", Turner sounds as accusatory as incredulous. "Meeting here had the higher priority over checking on a minor concussion and a bleeding scratch", Dietrich snaps at him, then pulls himself together and adds in a more moderate tone, "as you will hopefully understand, Major Turner." The American senior officer eyes the tall and lean young German Captain from head to toe. As he has discussed with the General previously, the man is far from a role model soldier in spite of his military upbringing and ingrained behavior due to his unruly tendencies, but intelligent, honorable and loyal to his principles and his allies nonetheless. Given the infamous Sergeant Troy whose own unruly behavior he has had ample opportunity to get to know by now is standing by the man with an unshakable loyalty that is truly astounding, this is indeed a quality the most rebellious, yet creative and smart soldiers find attractive to follow which undoubtedly qualifies the younger officer for the position the General has intended for him.
The German exchanges a slightly nervous glance with the American and Australian Captain at Major Turner's long pause in which the senior officer assesses the younger man. Troy startles him by putting a hand on his good shoulder, as the Sergeant bends down to whisper with an annoyed scowl: "First you get into trouble with the brass for calling the Red Cross, now for being shot and trying to help the camp first. You're really in as much trouble with the injust authorities as Robin Hood." "Shut up, Little John", the German whispers back. "Lest we both end up under arrest and who's going to break us out of jail then?" Troy grins widely now. "You can always rely on Tully." "To blow up the prison you mean", Dietrich replies dryly. "He might have done that before." Troy grins widely, as he sees the younger man sigh and shake his head lightly in disbelief.
"Captain Dietrich, you will go to the sickbay immediately", Major Turner orders after completing his observations. "Explain our intentions to the medical personnel after getting your check-up and assure that every nurse and doctor is available. We will entrust the actual patients to your German field medic and the Swiss, while all American staff is focusing on this project." "Doctor Sommer knows better how to identify SS tattoos than any of your people. He could not openly denounce the person, but help nonetheless, if he is willing to take such a risk", Hans Dietrich argues for his former Stabsarzt. "Your men show a greater loyalty to you personally than their army which is slightly disconcerting, even more so as this behaviour is not limited to your former Wehrmacht soldiers and officers", Major Turner comments with a scowl. "I have no idea what you are accusing me of, Major Turner", the younger German officer practically snarls as a response that appears to be an automatic defense reaction.
"Your Sergeant surely considers his loyalty to you more important than military protocol or ranks and hierarchies, don't you, Sergeant Troy?", the Major inquires slyly. "Leave the Captain be! He's earned our loyalty more than some protocol I don't care about." Dietrich is wearily drawing his left hand in front of his eyes and face in a facepalm, wishing he would be somewhere else right now. James Boggs eyes the younger German with a sympathetic smile, having suffered through Troy's escapades and lack of respect for officers' ranks for a full year already. "You'd better get him to sickbay, before he suffers from an aneurism, Sammy", Browny suggests with a smile, knowing Sam Troy well enough to understand how the young Jerry Captain is feeling. "Let's shake it, Captain Fox Kit!", Troy declares with a wide smile, as he gently hauls the tall German to his feet and drags his arm over his shoulder to support him, as he is close enough to feel the buckling knees of the younger man who has paled at the change of position.
Supporting Dietrich along the way through the camp, the duo draws some attention from soldiers of all countries. Several ask about the Captain's state and wish him a fast recovery. Although he can recognize the friendly intention, the German officer is greatly unnerved that some soldiers, especially the American ones, pat him on the arm or his good shoulder, while they provide their friendly wishes. Troy meanwhile grins from ear to ear like the Cheshire cat, as he helps the younger man move along. When they finally enter the sickbay, they find themselves approached by the medical staff right away.
"Lieutenant Griffiths brought First Lieutenant Winters' corpse and said that there has been a fight and you have been shot. What has happened, Captain Dietrich?", Doctor Andrews asks with a worried frown, while Lisa Hartigan and Deirdre O'Donnell stare at the German Captain with the bandage around his head in open shock. "Our dear Captain got himself shot by the LRDP, but he's too thick-headed to be taken down by that", Troy explains with a grin. "Troy!", Dietrich growls in protest. "A .50 calibre bullet ricocheted off my helmet, Doctor Andrews, fired by Lieutenant Winters, before he was shot by my men for our protection." "How come you're still alive with all the trouble you're attracting, Captain?", Andrews states with actual worry and an incredulous look upon hearing the explanation. "Lisa. Please have the Captain sit on his cot and cut off the bandage! Deirdre should help you expose and clean the wound. You'll probably have to cut the hair to get to the injury."
"Doctor Andrews. I have an important order to relay from the Major", Dietrich starts out, as Troy interrupts him: "Didn't he say specifically to do this after your checkup, Captain?" "Since when are you the rule-abiding one between the two of us, Sergeant?", Dietrich asks with sarcasm, then argues with clear logic: "Besides, I might not be in a fit state after the treatment and this is of vital importance for the camp." "As long as you're this coherent, your concussion can't be so bad", Troy counters. Then Doctor Andrews puts an end to the discussion: "What are the important orders, Captain?" "Are you familiar with Pervitin and the tattoos and markings specific for Nazis and SS members, Doctor?", Dietrich counters with a question of his own. "I have only heard of Pervitin, but never seen its usage. And I know of the tattoo of the blood type at the left arm of SS members." "Doctor Sommer can likely provide you with more reliable information than I, but we have found the drug on a German spy or commando unit member who has drugged Lieutenant Winters most likely, manipulating him into attacking his own men. We fear that this saboteur could not be alone and therefore the Major orders a medical checkup of every American soldier in camp, possibly the others afterwards as well under the guise of checking for the unknown drug that is responsible for the Lieutenant's death. You should start within the next one or two hours. Have the Swiss take over patient care and use all others for the identification of Nazis through any markings or tattoos. Time is of the essence", Dietrich argues clearly. Andrews listens intently. "I will arrange and prepare everything as you ordered, Captain. And Sergeant Troy is right. Arguing this coherently shows that your concussion is only minor. But we will check you nonetheless in a minute, once you have sat down."
Sam Troy supports the Captain who appears relieved and content that things are working according to plan now. Before being able to sit however, the young German finds himself in Ari's tight grip around his waist, as the boy nestles to him. "Hans!", the Jewish boy greets him enthusiastically. "*We were playing hide and seek. I was the best. Noone found me, not even Jack*", he tells his protector proudly about his achievement. Dietrich locks eyes with the British Sergeant, nodding and forming 'Thank you' with his lips, as he smiles gratefully, tousling the boy's hair.
Moffit approaches the Captain with a worried expression. "What happened to you, Captain? Don't tell me Troy shot you again?" "One of these days I'll shove your British humour down your throat, Jack!", Troy snaps angrily. "Winters shot me after his driver drugged him with Pervitin." Dietrich intends to end the discussion with a clear statement, as he already feels his headache increasing, standing in the middle between the two Rat Sergeants. Jack Moffit stares at him in pure astonishment. "And of course our Sherlock here had to start an investigation with blood running down his face." "Don't make it sound like the American cinema, Sergeant!", the German admonishes slightly unnerved. "Given you found an infiltrator in the camp in such a state, I have to admit I'm impressed", Jack Moffit offers. "Don't be, Doctor! Finding him after he has sprung his trap and gotten one of the most experienced officers of this unit killed by his own men is hardly an achievement", Dietrich replies wearily, hanging his head slightly in an obviously guilty posture.
"Hey, it's not your fault, Captain", Troy argues, as Ari notices his caregiver's change of stance as well. "*What is wrong, Hans?*", the boy inquires. "*Why are you sad?*" Dietrich gulps and hesitates how to explain his dilemma to the boy. "*I tried to protect people here, but someone I should have protected was killed*", the German Captain explains with a pained expression. "*And now your brother feels bad because of it, although he did nothing wrong*", Jack adds to the explanation. Dietrich's head snaps up to meet Moffit's eye which turns out a bad idea given his injury, as his vision turns black briefly and Troy only just manages to catch him and keep him upright, when his body grows limp and his head lolls to the side. Ari tightens his grip around the man's midsection and refuses to let go, although Moffit pleads with him several times.
The German officer has recovered from his brief unconsciousness within a few seconds and notices the child still clinging to him. Putting up a cool facade, Hans Dietrich mutters gently to the boy: "*I'm fine, Ari. You need not worry. Please go with Jack Moffit.*" His 'brother's' words finally convince him and the boy lets go of the German to take the Brit's hand. The Captain can finally stagger along with the American Sergeant, although this hardly reduces the strain on Troy's shoulders, as Dietrich is barely able to stay on his feet. "You'd better not complain about your treatment, Captain!", Sam Troy admonishes him, as he helps the younger man to sit down on his cot. Lisa Hartigan immediately takes over from him, but frowns, as the German flinches, when she touches his face to get a better look at the bandaging. "Are you in pain, Captain?", the nurse asks with concern. "No more than expected", the lean officer murmurs drowsily. Frowning at the answer, she directs the young man's angular face in the right position and then starts cutting through the bandage with a pair of surgical scissors.
Since Tully Pettigrew has wrapped the bandage tightly over the German Captain's hair, it is drenched and matted with fresh and dried blood now and hiding their view of the actual wound. As Doctor Andrews has predicted, cutting the hair is their best option which Lisa Hartigan does with practice and precision for the whole head in little time. "Shearing sheep gives you great practice for such situations", the American nurse comments jovially which makes the German officer frown slightly. "Don't tell me I look like a shorn sheep now!", Dietrich comments dryly, once she is finished which causes both nurses and Troy who has never left his bedside to smile. "You finally look like a proper soldier with the short cropped hair, Captain", the American Sergeant comments bemusedly. "It's good to see you've recovered your sense of humor, Sergeant", Dietrich replies only half-jokingly. Troy's sorrow and despair, when he has believed his brother David to have died, have been worrisome for the Captain.
While the German officer contemplates how to inconspicuously assist the reconciliation between the Troy brothers for the sake of the Sergeant as well as his own nerves, the nurses clean his head wound carefully. Doktor Sommer then takes care of providing the stitches to his former Hauptmann and checking him for a concussion, while Andrews leads the nurses away to explain the Captain's orders and coordinate their emergency checkup of half the camp within the next few hours. "You still suffer from a light concussion, Hauptmann Dietrich. Therefore you should not fall asleep within the next few hours, although I can understand that you are tired and exhausted", the German medic explains with a sympathetic tone, squeezing the younger officer's shoulder gently. "Don't worry. We'll watch him", Sam Troy assures him unbidden. "Thank you, Doktor and Sergeant." The German Captain addresses both of them with a more moderate tone than any of them would have expected. "I doubt I would be able to find any sleep anyways knowing there might be an undetected Nazi infiltrator in camp." "I have explained to Doctor Andrews what they are looking for and agreed to help confirm suspicions, once they have arrested somebody", Ludwig Sommer tells Dietrich who smiles with honest appreciation and gratitude. "I can't thank you enough for taking such a risk, Ludwig." Sommer smiles back at the Captain. "I can't do more than that for the sake of my family, as you know, Hans. But it is my pleasure to at least help out like this."
The arrival of the Australians bringing in David Troy interrupts their conversation, as Sam wants to assure himself that his brother is indeed still alive and Doktor Sommer is responsible for his treatment, while the American medical personnel are occupied with preparing the checkup for the whole camp. The pilot is unconscious after his rescuers have been quite liberal with providing him with morphine. Sam Troy sucks in air through clenched teeth at the sight of the burnt and bloodied face and arms. "Will he make it?", the American Sergeant asks the German medic with actual worry. "Thanks to you and your men I have a lot of experience with this type of injury", Doktor Sommer replies in a tone that carries more sorrow than bitterness. "Don't worry. I'll do the best I can for your brother, Sergeant Troy." "You're a good man, just like the Captain", Troy tells him with an honest smile. "Thanks, Doctor." Sommer turns away without a comment, as the Swiss nurse Arno asks him about beginning the treatment, who then snaps at the Sergeant, as he tries to follow them: "Don't get in the way, when we treat our patient! You can visit later." Scowling and grumbling in annoyance over bossy nurses, Sam Troy turns to let them take care of David. At least his brother is still alive, as is the German, although both have sent him through the fires of hell today worrying about their deaths.
Jack Moffit meanwhile has sat down with Dietrich and asked the German officer for a detailed description of what has happened after having passed Ari on to the Swiss nurse Regula for caretaking. For someone who has just been shot and knocked out, the Captain is surprisingly coherent Moffit assesses, as he listens to the younger man's recount of the events leading to his injury and the emergency checkup of every soldier in camp. "Have you experienced the effects of Pervitin on your enemies, when you fought in France, Sergeant Moffit?", Dietrich inquires the Brit with a serious expression. "The miracle drug that kept them from getting tired, wishing to eat or sleep?", Jack Moffit asks which the German Captain answers with a nod. "I've only heard horror stories, mainly from the French who hid me and helped me to make it to the coast where a fisher boat got me out and over the channel. They told me that many boche soldiers, as they call you, behaved more like beasts driven by whatever master is whipping them onward beyond exhaustion and caring who or what they kill, maim, raid or mistreat. One of my comrades from an Irish family compared it to an old Irish and Welsh legend of a magical cauldron in possession of the leader of the Gaels when fighting against the Brits that would revive the dead warriors thrown into it and cooked during the night to take up their arms as undead wights the next morning. According to legend the English king found his men would be slaughtered every day in battle, while his enemy would increase his army every night without risking his own soldiers and despaired as their numbers dwindled until a brave young warrior clambered in to cauldron alive and destroyed it from within."
The German Captain bears a grim expression, as he listens stoically, then comments with a bitter tone: "Unfortunately, what we are talking about is not a matter of legend such as undead soldiers brought to life, but a real drug that has almost the opposite effect, killing the mind of the living men taking it and making them in this way almost like your walking dead." "Are you believing in what you called Hollywood nonsense by now as well?", Sam Troy asks with a grin that grows even wider, as both men scowl at him with almost equal expressions of annoyance. "Troy, there are not enough painkillers in this field hospital to make your comments even marginally bearable", Hans Dietrich groans in exaggerated suffering. "I'm sharing your pain, Captain", Jack Moffit assures him in mock drama. "I doubt you're even aware of it beyond the tip of this iceberg, Sergeant Moffit. He basically told the Major to his face that he doesn't care about military rules and protocols and used me as his excuse to do so", the German officer shares his torment. "Troy?", Moffit starts out with a tone that contains as much accusation as incredulity. "He's telling this all wrong I told that arrogant Major that I care more about a man who's earned my loyalty than any damned protocol", Troy intercedes stubbornly. "You told the Major, most likely unasked and straight to his face, didn't you, old boy?", Moffit comments dryly. "Of course. It's not like the brass ever ask me for my opinion, so I just have to give it", Troy provides his justification. The German Captain bears an expression that clearly communicates 'I told you so' to the Brit who looks bemused between the two. Captain Boggs' assessment that they deserve each other is almost an understatement.
"Although I can understand your plight perfectly, Captain, I have to remind you that I provided you with warning whether you knew what you were doing by offering this probation to Troy. Apparently, your strategy is not working the way you have intended. So the question is whether you will stand by your word or end this arrangement." Dietrich looks as startled as Troy who glares at the Brit with serious anger. "Your line of argumentation is not to be discarded, Doctor. However, I'm not only a man of my word, but also have grown up with the notion that the easy way out is for cowards", the German argues smoothly meeting both their gazes with stubborn pride. By the end of the statement, Troy grins triumphantly at Moffit who is not surprised by the German Captain's steadfast and stubborn attitude. This is the true connection he has with Sam Troy, from the Brit's perspective.
"Captain Dietrich", Doctor Andrews addresses the German officer more cautiously than previously when he has caused the young man to attack him unintentionally. The Captain sighs wearily, before looking up at the medic standing over him with eyebrows raised in a silent question. "We will require the officers ward for the examinations you have ordered. Therefore we would have to transfer Major Bracken which I will arrange with Lieutenant Johnson, as well as you, your friend Lieutenant Silberblatt whose bed is still here and the boy Ari." Dietrich looks briefly surprised by the request, then narrows his eyes: "Do you suggest that Lieutenant Silberblatt or I take the boy with us on active duty." Andrews gives the lean German officer a stern reprimanding look. "Don't even think that I will release you on active duty in your current state, Captain!"
The Captain tries to push himself up with a shaking left arm, but has to realise the futility halfway during the process of getting up. Moffit being already next to him is faster than Troy at catching the German by his good shoulder and helping him to sit back down. "You have just proven my point, Captain Dietrich", the American medic points out strictly. "Sergeant Troy. I put you in charge of assuring the Captain's wellbeing and heeding the medical advice given to him." "You can't...", Dietrich snaps and looks like he is about to try jumping to his feet again. Troy beams like Christmas and Easter have been united to a single celebration with regaining his brother and being put in charge of the German Captain. Andrews stops the seething young officer in his complaint: "You have just proven effectively that you require some active support even to get up and remain on your feet. Whoever else I would put on this task however Sergeant Troy would bully and drive to insanity within the first hour." "Who worries about driving me to insanity?", Dietrich growls sarcastically. "After all that you've done, since you're in this camp, you've earned your rest", Doctor Andrews tries to appease the angry Captain who reacts quite in the opposite way: "And what have I done to earn his company as my guard?" The young officer points in Troy's direction with exasperation. "Sergeant Troy is not your guard, Captain, but an assistant that you desperately need", Andrews argues. "I desperately need to be left alone with that lunacy", the Captain growls at the end of his nerves. Andrews smiles at the melodrama the German has adopted fairly quickly from the Americans. Admittedly, he has had some of the best teachers in his vicinity.
With a smile, the American medic comments: "You have proven your resistance to Troy's type of insanity more than anybody else." The German officer bears such a tormented look that Jack Moffit feels like sympathising with his plight, as he comments dryly: "Don't worry, Captain. You can still consider the French Foreign Legion or the Sheikh's offer to marry one of his daughters." "Moffit", the Captain snarls with annoyance. "Is it really necessary to support Troy in tormenting me and costing me my last bits of sanity? Compared to you two a courtmartial feels almost attractive." Andrews has wisely retreated from the quarrel, deciding to simply kick them all out of sickbay, if they still bicker in five minutes.
By that time, none has actively tried to kill the other, but the German Captain looks downright miserable. If Andrews would trust in anyone else to be able to rein the stubborn young officer in, he would spare him the misery he appears to be in. But as he has learned from Ludwig Sommer and his own experience, Hans Dietrich is ingenious in weaseling his way out of taking the required rest to allow his body to recover and somehow taking care of something related to fulfilling his duties. Thus grounding him with the equally headstrong Sergeant appears the best thing to do at least for the rest of the day, until he has been able to recover from his concussion. In addition, this has the added bonus of keeping the annoying Sergeant from breathing down their necks and constantly bothering them inquiring about his brother who will have to stay sedated for at least a day or two given how painful large scale second and third degree burn wounds are.
As Sam Troy asks about him for the second time, another person joins his inquiry about David Troy's state, Air Commodore George-Irving. "You have my sincerest wishes for your brother to recover, Sergeant Troy", the older British officer addresses the American Sergeant in a gentlemanly manner that immediately annoys Troy, as it reminds him of everything that gets on his nerves with the arrogant, stiff, stuck-up Tommies. In the same tone, the Commodore continues his inquiry: "Where is your Captain Dietrich?" "I'll take you to him", Troy offers, too eager to get rid of the British brass by passing him on to the German Captain who is way better at dealing with such sorts than he is. "Oh. And thanks for ... Davey. I hope he gets better", Troy offers and looks at the surgery table where Sommer and the Swiss are still operating on his brother with concern and annoyance to not be informed what is going on.
"Hey Captain, I got you a visitor", Troy announces to Dietrich who is currently leaning on Moffit to keep standing, while both give instructions to Ari. The German officer looks at him warily, but stiffens immediately at the sight of the Air Commodore. "Commodore George-Irving. It's good to know that you and your men landed safely", the German Captain greets him smoothly, refraining from providing a salute in the light of his already excruciatingly hurting shoulder and not too stable position. "I've heard that I owe you my life", the British officer announces with all the stateliness due for a man of his rank, age and noble soldierly upbringing. "I thus wish to express to you, Captain, my sincerest gratitude." Switching to his more grandfatherly tone that unnerves the German officer far more than the man's distanced formality, George-Irving continues: "Should you ever have need of a good and reliable pilot, you can always count on me, my dear lad." Undisturbed by the younger officer tensing at the touch, the Brit pats the Captain's arm lying over Moffit's shoulders.
Overcoming his bafflement at the statement and aversion against the treatment, Hans Dietrich recovers quickly enough to reply with a neutral tone: "I appreciate your gracious offer, Commodore. Could you inform me what has happened with David Troy and why his plane crashed." Sam Troy stiffens at the inquiry and eyes the British officer curiously after giving a grateful nod to the German. You can always rely on Dietrich to be circumspect and diligent. George-Irving answers in almost the same manner as the German has adopted, with calm controlled neutrality. "Captain Troy circled our unit in a classical reconnaissance move. He gave us a sign that he has recognised us and turned away, when his motor started stuttering. He did his best to keep the plane from crashing, but only partially succeeded." Dietrich frowns, but his tone holds some concern, as he inquires: "What has caused the motor to fail?" Air Commodore George-Irving smiles, as one would at a curious child asking rather naive questions: "My dear fellow. The art of flying is not like directing the tanks or cannons you had under your command. A bird caught in a motor can mean the death for both aerial acrobats, man and beast. Sand blown in by the incalculable storms causes as much trouble as a loose screw." Dietrich sighs. "So you basically cannot tell me, because you don't know the actual cause, Commodore." The elderly Brit smiles, as does Jack Moffit at the exchange, while Sam Troy glares at the Brit even more exasperated than the German Captain.
"That is quite correct. Without investigating the wreck nobody can answer your question, Captain Dietrich", Air Commodore George-Irving confirms. The German officer nods in quiet acceptance, feeling the exhaustion settling in. "Thank you for your visit, Commodore. We all hope that Captain Troy recovers", Dietrich replies with a controlled tone that carries more concern in Sam's and Jack's ears than the German tries to let show. The British officer smiles jovially, as he pats the younger man's shoulder in his grandfatherly manner. "Indeed, we all do. Best of luck to you, my dear lad. I will have to look after my dear friend Willy's friend, Harry."
As the British officer turns to look for Major Bracken, Jack Moffit uses his strategic position to whisper to the Captain inconspicuously with dry sarcasm: "Looks like you will be well adopted in the British ranks sooner rather than later. Don't forget your Cambridge invitation, Captain." "Kindly keep your thoughts to yourself, Moffit", the German officer snaps back. "Well. Let's shake it, Captain, before that guy adopts you as his grandson or something", Troy comments with a grin. "If it means escaping you, I'm willing to consider it", Dietrich replies dryly. "Haven't you forgotten that this would make David Troy your colleague, if you changed to the RAF now", Moffit reminds him with dry humor, as he lets Sam Troy take over supporting the lean German who only answers with an exasperated sigh.
Ari has quickly adopted the idea of spending time with his brother Hans for a change with immediate and extraordinary enthusiasm, gathering his toys and clothes in the meantime. The youngster is excitedly stepping from one foot on the other and beaming at Hans Dietrich and Sam Troy who helps the tall German to remain on his feet and carries the boy's clothes in addition. Grabbing his staggering caregiver's tunic the boy follows the duo while telling about his adventures of the last days in a mix of English, Hebrew and Arab terms that is hard to follow for the German Captain in his current state and impossible gibberish to Sam Troy who smiles jovially at the kid nonetheless. Getting to know him better is something he would have liked to, but has not considered possible until now.