The Rat Patrol 3 - The Trojan Tank Affair (27 page)

The valley had been dark but it was light enough on the desert to drive at high speed without lights. That meant they would be seen from the sky.

"Turn on your lights," he called to Tully. "Maybe the planes won't know which car is which."

They were a long way from being out of the woods, or, rather, off the desert, Troy amended with grim humor. He wondered what had brought Jerry after them, but this was neither the time nor the place to ask questions. Moffitt and he rode looking behind and Hitch kept his eyes on the sky.

Without being directed, Tully crossed the old trade route and continued through the desert. The car from the guard post and the three that had come through the fence seemed equally distant, at least one mile behind. A plane came in low and followed the car on the trade route, then came in after the Rat Patrol, buzzing low but not firing.

Now they had four cars and a plane hot after them. Troy threw a smoke bomb behind as the plane came back at about a thousand feet. Tully changed his course to the west. The plane circled the four cars and returned to dive at the Rat Patrol with red tracers showing from the chattering machine guns in its wings. Tully spun the car and drove away from the plane toward the four patrol cars, spun again and shot forward on course. Troy threw smoke bombs behind and to the right and left.

Far, far ahead, Troy thought he could see the rock sloping into the sky. They must still be ten miles away. The plane flew overhead, not firing this time, and zoomed away. Troy did not know whether the smoke bombs had confused the pilot or if he was waiting for the four cars to close in. Tully had sacrificed the distance between the cars and them when he'd taken evasive action to escape the plane.

"Can you get us within a mile or so of the rock?" Troy shouted at Tully.

"I can try, Sarge," Tully yelled. "I'm giving it all it's got."

The plane came at them and opened fire. Tully spun hard to the left, out of its path, and straightened out. So far they hadn't been caught by the plane's fire but one of these times the pilot was going to stitch them. Troy started pulling off his clothes.

"Strip to your shorts and your shoes," he shouted. "Not you, Tully. Just keep zigging and zagging away from the plane."

Troy threw another smoke bomb behind. Tully turned off his light. The plane dived at the smoke screen and Tully ran a good five miles before the plane caught up with them again. Just one more time, Troy thought, tossing another smoke bomb off to the right. They all were sitting in their shorts and shivering.

"Bunch your clothes around guns," Troy said, wrapping his tunic and breeches around the MG 42. "Put it beside you on the seat. Hitch, shove yours over toward Tully. I'm going to heave all the smoke bombs we've got. When I tell you, Tully, take the box with the grenades and charges and lay it on the accelerator and jump. Lay low in the sand and don't move an eyelash until the plane has shot up the car. Those four cars that are following will go to the wreck. Go on to the rock, don't wait for the others. Maybe one of us will make it."

Moffitt handed the four spools of wire to Tully. "Stick these in your pockets, will you?"

Troy estimated they now were within a mile of the rock. He threw smoke bombs to all sides. The plane shot overhead and opened fire. Tully turned the car northeast, away from the rock. Troy threw his last bombs.

"Dive," he shouted as the plane passed. He hit the sand rolling and saw Moffitt and Hitch in motion from the corners of his eyes but Tully was still at the wheel.

He lifted his head, saw Tully had turned on the searchlight before he'd jumped. The car was running straight, now a good five hundred yards away. The smoke was thick behind but the car was in the clear. The smoke spread out and covered Troy. He had not seen any of the others. He heard the plane once more at the same time he heard a car passing near. The sound of machine guns rattled and an enormous explosion rocked the desert with flashes that illuminated the smoke. He heard the sound of other cars as they passed somewhere in the smoke, got to his feet and ran through the smoke to his left. He did not know how far he ran before the smoke began to thin and he slowed to a walk. When the foggy mist no longer screened him, he fell to his stomach and crawled.

The desert was strewn with stones. He was very near the rock, looming ahead. More than a mile away, he saw the lights of four cars driving around a high flaming wreck. The airplane circled them and flew off to the southeast. Troy got to his feet and ran in a crouch toward the rock. He glanced over his shoulder as he neared it and saw first Moffitt, then Hitch and Tully break from the smoke. He waited a moment and they trotted together down the path of sand toward the steel sheet that covered the entrance to the grotto. A shadow, the hyena, faded away from the rock.

Troy held the sheet for the others as they stumbled down the ramp into the blackness. Troy lowered the sheet over his head and groped from the mouth of the cave into the pitch blackness of the grotto. Someone, it was Tully, turned on the headlights of the lead jeep and Hitch went over to the crate and lighted the lantern. Tully turned off the headlights and walked to the crate where the others were sitting in their shorts.

"Coffee?" he suggested.

"Coffee, hell!" Troy snorted. "I can use a drink."

Tully brought the bottle they'd meant to leave and poured a good two inches in each of the four tin cups. Troy gulped his drink, went back to the cot and got into his GI clothes. When the others were dressed, they gathered at the table.

"We'll give Jerry half an hour to get out of the area," he said, glancing at his watch. "It's oh-two-thirty now. We should be in Bir-el-Alam by oh-six-hundred."

"That's H-hour," Moffitt said. "This is D-day. Do you think he'll carry on as planned?"

"He will," Troy said confidently. "There was so much explosive in that car, he couldn't expect to find any bits. He won't be able to make any kind of search until morning. Now, what happened back at the camp?"

"We thought they'd taken you," Moffitt said, looking puzzled.

"I fell into a ravine and got my wind knocked out," Troy said. "I thought they'd captured one or all of you."

"No, everything apparently went off smoothly," Moffitt said. "We were at Tully's post waiting for you. The camp was calm and Dietrich was going to bed. Then all of a sudden, lights went on in the office and a moment later the siren was sounding."

"We'll never know," Troy said. "It was a close one. He's going to fake an attack with those dummies, isn't he?" 

"Yes," Moffitt said, "but the King Tiger tank is no dummy. They will inflict some real damage with that." 

"It won't leave the area," Troy said. "I planted charges in its treads."

"Oh, good show," Moffitt said laughing.

A few minutes before oh-three-hundred, Troy climbed on the rock with his field glasses and turned them on the patrol car that still glowed red in the night. Three of the Jerry patrols had left but one car remained at the wreck. He made a sweeping inspection of the desert but found no trace of other patrols. He debated a moment about destroying the patrol that had been stationed at the wreck, decided against it. The dark of the night was thick and the motors of the new jeeps were quiet. They would run straight west for the flat stretch behind the dunes before they turned on their lights.

Troy glanced once around the grotto as Tully and then Hitch drove the jeeps up the ramp. It was strange, but he felt a feeling of regret at leaving the place. It had been a snug haven but he did not think they would have to use it again. He dropped the sheet in place, scuffed sand around the edges and climbed into the jeep with Tully. They moved quietly along the rock with Hitch and Moffitt following.

The rakes dragged out any marks that might have indicated they'd ever been this way.

The rock shielded them from the Jerry patrol as they ran through the night toward the dunes and Troy did not think they could have been seen, even in the open. When they reached the valley, Troy listened a moment for the sound of aircraft. The night was silent. He told Tully to use his headlights and they wound quickly through the depression to the flat desert beyond. Tully pointed the hood north, grinned at Troy and waved to Hitch. Side by side, the two jeeps of the Rat Patrol leaped forward and flew over the sand toward Bir-el-Alam.

21

 

Troy, Moffitt, Hitch and Tully stood on top of the dune at the southernmost point on the defensive perimeter with field glasses at their eyes. Beside them, the Sherman tank was still in the position it had occupied throughout the rainy season. Far away on a flat stretch of shimmering desert, a wide front of medium German tanks was approaching. It was a mighty force that extended in the distance until its rear units were hidden in dust that seemed to trail for miles. High overhead, ten Me-109s flew cover while one aircraft hovered low, no more than a thousand feet above the armor.

"You know," Colonel Wilson said, dropping his glasses to his chest, "it's a very impressive display even without the monster tank. I am certain it would have deceived us."

Troy pointed to the fighters that had left the tank column and were flying toward Bir-el-Alam.

"They're real," he said, and looked back toward the advancing tanks. One plane, the low-hovering craft, had remained with the force, circling from the front far to the rear.

Colonel Wilson laughed and lifted his head. Troy heard the faint sound of very high flying aircraft.

"We're ready," Wilson said.

Two dozen P-40s came out of the sun and pounced on the ten Jerry fighters. They struck swiftly and it was not even a dog fight for the outnumbered Jerries. When six Me-109s had crashed to the desert leaving black streamers of smoke hanging against the blue sky, the remaining four planes from the formation turned and streaked to the southeast. Troy looked for the plane that had stayed with tank column. It had disappeared.

The tanks continued their steady advance.

"We really don't have much to throw at them," Wilson said mildly but he was smiling broadly. "All of our tanks were diverted to meet the force that is advancing from Sidi Abd. I'm afraid we shan't have much of a battle here." Troy glanced quickly at Moffitt and then back to Wilson. Moffitt was smiling as were Hitch and Tully.

"As far as we're concerned," he told Wilson, "this is going to be the best battle we've ever been in." He laughed suddenly. "Come to think of it, this is the only battle we've fought. And it's hardly going to be orthodox."

"You don't anticipate any difficulty in the real battle, the one with the force from Sidi Abd?" Moffitt asked Wilson.

"No battle is ever easy," Wilson said. "Men will be killed and equipment destroyed. There is no doubt of the outcome, however. We have such overwhelming superiority that Jerry may even turn and ran."

"In which case, our force will pursue?" Moffitt asked. 

"That is correct," Wilson said. "This is the end for Jerry in this sector. After today, we shall control Libya as far east as Sidi Abd and as far south as Agarawa. Incidentally, Moffitt, Troy mentioned you might be interested in learning that the Rat Patrol will be based at Agarawa, although I can't imagine why that miserable Arab town should please you."

Moffitt's eyes were twinkling when they turned to Troy. "I assume we'll be assigned quarters in the grotto," he said.

"Of course," Troy said. "Tully requested it. We left a quantity of coffee behind."

"I have a feeling I'll be taking most of my meals out while we're in town," Moffitt murmured. He turned to Wilson. "Cobble and Damon heard from yet?"

"We sent a car to meet the caravan," Wilson said. "We'll bring the Legionnaires in with them. From what you tell us, they sound almost like another Rat Patrol. They'll be welcome in the battalion. Major Grogan, incidentally, will recover. Jerry left him for dead but he's a tough one. One of the first things he asked when he gained consciousness was to ask whether the Rat Patrol had got through."

"One thing has puzzled me," Troy said, frowning. "There was a message on Day Three. 'Need Data Immediately,' I think it was worded. We were pushing as fast as we could. Who was it thought he had to goose us?"

Wilson's face flushed with anger. "Blakely of G2 sent that," he said. "I didn't learn of it until later or I would have stopped it. He has the idea that men don't put out all they can unless you lean on them."

"And I was beginning to like G2," Troy said softly.

"I still like G2," Tully said. "They don't hold back on rations and supplies."

Wilson lifted his glasses again and turned to the tank force.

"They are about three miles away," he said. "I think the time has come to engage them."

The four of them walked from the dune and across the small oasis. The two jeeps were parked in the ragged shade of a palm, and a dozen armored cars were lined up behind them. One man was in each car with the driver and the cars were mounted with flamethrowers.

"Our battalion," Wilson said, laughing.

Troy got into the back of the jeep with Tully at the wheel and Wilson in the passenger seat. Moffitt climbed in behind Hitch and picked up a bullhorn amplifier. At a signal from Wilson, the jeeps started followed by the twelve armored cars in two lines. The jeeps headed straight for the approaching line of Jerry tanks while the two lines of armored cars separated toward either side of the enemy force. When the jeeps had driven within a thousand yards of the tanks, they stopped and Moffitt lifted the amplifier to his mouth.

"Achtung, achtung,"
his voice blared. "Halt and surrender or we shall turn the flamethrowers on your wooden armor plate.
Achtung, achtung,
halt and surrender."

Flame spurted from the armored cars into the desert sand near the tanks as they drove down the columns.

"Achtung, Herr Hauptmann Dietrich,"
Moffitt called. "Do not sacrifice your men needlessly. We know your tanks are dummies. Halt and surrender."

One of the tanks at the center of the front line shot ahead of the others and stopped. An officer climbed from the back, holding his palm up to the tanks. He turned and walked stiffly toward the jeeps, starting for Moffitt, then noticing the eagle on Wilson's helmet and coming to him instead.

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