The Rat Patrol 3 - The Trojan Tank Affair (20 page)

Moffitt lowered the sheet, brushed away his footprints with his cap and stepped into the back. Rake down, Tully drove west on the path of sand. Near the end of the rock, Hitch dropped into the back with Moffitt.

Tully moved the car into high gear and they raced from the shelter of the escarpment into the open desert. The sun had burned the color from the sky. Dust and heat lay over the gray sand in hazy layers that rose and fell like undisturbed cigar smoke in a shaft of light. The wind was dry and hot, blasting Troy's face stiff and he pulled his field cap over his forehead to his goggles.

"How did it look?" he shouted, turning half around to Hitch. It startled him to see Hitch sitting erect on the camouflage net, looking every inch a Teutonic warrior with his peaked Afrika Korps cap, medalled tunic, breeches and black boots. Beside him, Moffitt in his field cap and open-collared shirt that bagged over his belt, slouched, hung his mouth open and gawked. Troy smiled crookedly. "You both look real enough to give me the jitters."

"You look real pretty too, Sarge," Hitch said, laughing. "Ahead about a mile and a half are some rolling dunes. You can't see it from the level ground, but there's a shallow valley on this side of the dunes and a flat stretch of desert on the other side. Right now, a Jerry car is coming south on that flat stretch. The valley goes southwest at a slant along the dunes until it runs into the flat country after about five miles. If we take the valley, they won't be able to see us and we should head them off."

"Was there much else in sight?" Troy asked.

"Not much," Hitch said, frowning. "It surprised me. After last night, I thought the desert would be crawling with patrols. We saw one car way off east and another to the south. That's all. We're in the clear here except from the >air and the planes all are flying so high we couldn't see them."

Troy turned to Tully. He would have felt better if Hitch had reported a dozen or more patrols probing every mile of the area. It looked as if Dietrich were deliberately making it easy for them.

"The minute you hit the valley, pull up the rake and step on the gas," he told Tully. "We'll get the jeep out of sight, take that patrol car in a hurry and get moving. We're not going to have time to capture another car if we miss this one."

They were approaching the dunes and Troy could see the dip in the desert in front of the hills. It was only ten or twelve feet deep and not much wider and wound lazily southwest like the bed of a river. Tully angled down the slope and lifted the rake. He threw the jeep in second gear to pick up speed in the loose sand, and when they were taking the turns at thirty miles an hour, he went back into high and pushed the speed up to forty-five miles per hour. Sand whipped Troy's face as they slewed through the valley. He glanced over his shoulder at the cloud of dust that trailed them. It hung low and he did not think it would be visible on the other side of the dunes. Ahead, the depression was widening as it opened on a great plain of the desert. Tully slowed and Troy looked for a nearby pocket where they could hide the jeep under the camouflage net.

"Over here, Sarge," Tully called, pointing to a trough in the slope at their left.

"Take it," Troy said.

Tully drove past it, braked, reversed and backed into the slot. Moffitt and Hitch tore at the camouflage net, unfolding it, and Tully and Troy dragged it over the jeep. Each except Moffitt took a tommy-gun. He pulled off his cap and goggles and ran his fingers through his hair, tousling it. Troy high-stepped to the top of a dune overlooking the haze carpeted desert and lay on his stomach, shielding the lenses of his glasses from the sun with his palm and searching north for the patrol car. It was coming toward their position at a leisurely speed, about a hundred yards away from the dunes, still a good two miles off. He ran back to the others.

"All right, Jack, get out there," he said to Moffitt. "Crawl out on your belly about fifteen yards and lie flat until Jerry gets up to within a thousand yards."

"Right-o," Moffitt said with half a smile. He ran to the end of the valley, dived into the sand and started pulling himself into the desert with his elbows.

Troy swung to Hitch and Tully, pointing after Moffitt "Go to the bottom of that dune where you can cover Moffitt," he said. "I'll go to the top and take the car from behind. As soon as I open fire, mow down whoever is on the desert. Get them with your first burst. Moffitt's going to be a pigeon out there."

They started for the bottom of the dune and Troy sprinted up the slope. Near the top, he fell to his stomach and edged up, not risking his glasses this time but shading his eyes as he looked north. The car was less than a mile away. He glanced swiftly over his shoulder and saw Moffitt sprawled face down in the sand. Troy turned his attention to the car again. There were three men in it, the driver and another man in the front and one man in the back. The car carried no mounted weapon but Troy knew they probably were armed with machine pistols or light MG-42 machine guns. Now the passenger in the front was standing, pointing over the windscreen toward the bottom of the dune. Without turning his head, Troy knew that Moffitt had staggered to his feet, stumbled a few feet, just long enough to let Jerry see the uniform, fallen to his knees and collapsed. The car came in toward the dune, slowed and stopped about fifty yards from Troy. The man in the back stood with his light machine gun at his shoulder, swinging from side to side, looking ahead for a moment. Then he jumped from the car and started slowly in the direction of Moffitt, his machine gun angled across his body.

Troy rose to a crouch, ready to spring. The other two men in the car were standing, looking in the other direction. Troy glanced swiftly toward Moffitt to gauge his timing before he sprinted, and fell flat on his face. A second patrol car had come in from the south and was less than five hundred yards away.

14

Troy back paddled off the dune and raced to Hitch and Tully.

"Hold it," he said in a hoarse whisper. "There's another car moving in."

They turned to him, stunned.

"Hitch, take the second car and whoever is in it," Troy said quickly. "Blow it up if you have to. Anything. Tully, get up there where I was and go after the first car when I start shooting down here. I'll take care of whoever comes up to look at Moffitt."

Tully started scratching up the hill and Troy fell prone and crawled to the edge of the dune. Hitch remained where he was, waiting for Troy's signal. Troy brought his knees forward, ready to spring to his feet shooting. Now that there were two cars, everyone would feel safe and except for the drivers. They'd all walk over to have a look at the man who'd apparently met disaster in the desert. Troy knew he would have to cut all of them down with his first burst or one of them was sure to kill Moffitt.

The man with the light machine gun from the first car had reached Moffitt. He knelt on one knee and turned him over on his back. The Jerry glanced away from Moffitt and Troy looked with him, seeing that the second car had stopped and all three of the men from it were walking toward Moffitt. Their machine guns were at the ready in their hands. The man with Moffitt laid his gun on the ground, slid his arm around Moffitt's shoulder and lifted him halfway up. He reached to his hip for his canteen. Troy gritted his teeth. The three men from the second car grouped around Moffitt, then all squatted as the first Jerry held the canteen to Moffitt's lips. Troy could not fire.

The first man aided Moffitt to his feet and supported him as they started toward the patrol car. Moffitt stumbled and dragged his feet. The three men from the second car followed. Troy stood, standing straddle-legged with his gun at hip, ready to fire if an opportunity presented itself. Moffitt pitched suddenly forward, sprawling on the sand. Before any of the Jerries could bend to him, Troy squeezed and held the trigger back as the gun chattered and tried to jerk up in his hand. He stitched the four men in a long burst. They crumpled and sank to the ground as Troy released the trigger and found his hand was shaking.

Troy heard a submachine gun firing near the first car as Hitch darted toward it from the valley. The two men who'd stayed with the car had leaped out when Troy opened fire and they now were stretched on the desert.

Moffitt slowly pushed himself to his knees and then to his feet. He stood, shaking his head as he looked at the carnage. Troy, Hitch and Tully each seized a pair of legs and dragged the bodies toward the depression. Moffitt sighed and bent to the first man who'd given him water. He dragged him away with the rest.

Troy and Moffitt went back for the last two bodies and Hitch and Tully got into the Jerry patrol cars and drove them into the valley beyond the camouflaged jeep. They jumped down, lifted out the shovels and still without speaking since the firing started, started scooping out sand for six shallow graves. Troy and Moffitt threw out sand with them and working together, they lifted the bodies into the trenches.

"More than we bargained for," Troy muttered as they started tossing in the fill.

"Looks like we eliminated patrol activity in this area," Hitch said. "What are we going to do with the second car?"

"We're going to the Jerry camp with both cars," Troy said. He'd been considering the situation as they buried the Jerries.

"You think we should separate and approach from different directions?" Moffitt said, nodding his head in approval and smiling for the first time since the action started.

"No, Jack," Troy said firmly. "We aren't going to split the Patrol again if I can help it. We need all the support we can give each other. Instead of sneaking around and getting into the staging area by some back way, we're going straight into the camp on the trade route from Agarawa, just as if we were a legitimate two-car patrol that is returning. If Jerry is suspicious or watching, I think that will be convincing enough to throw him off balance.

"It's audacious," Moffitt said appreciatively. "I like it. You're taking a lesson from Hitler's Big-Lie psychology." They gathered the Jerry light machine guns and threw them in the patrol cars, shoveled over the site of the encounter and started back to the grotto. Tully drove the jeep, sandwiched between the armored Volkswagens. Troy drove the first patrol car and Moffitt the other. Hitch, the captain, sat beside Moffitt, the private, and smirked.

Troy slowed before they reached the rock and motioned Tully to go on ahead. He did not know whether the entrance was large enough to take the patrol cars and even if they did get them into the cave, Troy was not at all sure the Volkswagens had the power to climb the steep ramp. Tully tossed the camouflage net from the jeep when he stopped to lift the sheet and brought out the second net after he'd run the jeep into the cavern. With the patrol cars parked and covered beside the rock, they all went inside. Troy checked his watch. It was oh-one-thirty.

"I was worried about time, figuring it would take us a while to get to the Jerry camp," he said, "but it looks as if we could revise our timetable. If we leave here about sixteen-hundred hours, taking the route that Jerry uses and driving at a moderate speed, we should get to the staging area about dusk. Let's have something to eat and heat up the coffee before we load."

"Heat the coffee, Sarge!" Tully said indignantly. "Are you some kind of nut or something?" He grabbed the pot from the stove and started toward the passage. "We're going to have fresh coffee with our breakfast."

"'I guess you're right," Troy said, smiling quickly. "No point leaving a can of coffee for the hyena." He turned to Hitch. "I think we ought to post a guard, or at least an observer, Captain. Do you mind standing first watch?" 

''Lieutenant," Hitch barked. "I are aware of my duties." He stalked to the crate by the cots and came back with a dark robe and burnoose over his uniform. "How's this? It ought to make me look like a rock on a rock."

"You mean a bone on a stone," Tully drawled. 

"Insubordination," Hitch spluttered.

"We'll spell you in half an hour," Troy said and Hitch slipped from the cave like an Arab.

Tully fit the flame under the coffeepot and started going through the rations, laying packages and cans aside in two piles.

"Going on a picnic?" Troy asked curiously, stooping to pick up two five-gallon water cans.

"Potted meat, biscuits and cheese," Tully said, making a face. "We're done eating high on the hog. I know we ain't going to get to eat when we drop by for the jeeps tonight. That one pile is to take along on our ride to the Jerry camp, in case our exercise makes us hungry. The second goes in the jeeps for our trip back to Bir-el-Alam. In case of a detour."

"You should have been a mess sergeant," Troy said. "All you think of is food."

"Knock it off," Tully growled, mocking him.

Troy started to stock the jeeps for the run to Bir-el-Alam. He replaced the water cans, filled the tanks with gasoline and placed extra cans in the racks, checked the radiators and oil. The machine gun in the jeep that Moffitt and Hitch had used had not been fired, but in the second jeep he replaced the ammunition. He stowed crackers, potted meat and biscuits in each vehicle and placed tommy-guns with extra clips of ammunition and grenades in them. G2 had included a case of smoke bombs and he put this aside to take in the patrol cars. The jeeps were equipped with smoke screen devices.

He went to the back of the cavern, took four GI blankets from the cots and placed two in each jeep. And that should do it, he thought, stepping across to the receiver and trying to bring in the shortwave station at Algiers. All that came from the speaker was a snapping crackle that sounded like a string of ladyfinger firecrackers. He turned the dial idly, caught a snatch of music, stopped and re-tuned bringing in a number he recognized.
"Lili Marlene."
A husky female voice was singing the words in German and Troy hummed along with her, then sang in English:

"Underneath the lamplight 
By the barrack gate 
Darling I remember 
The way you used to wait...

He broke off as Moffitt walked over and stood beside him. "Got a Jerry broadcast," he said.