The Need to Know Raid

By: AliasCWN

Chapter 1

(Authors note: According to the history books, the war in the North African desert ended in May 1943. There may have been troops still there, but most of them had been sent to help with the war in Europe which was still in full swing. Episode 1, season 1 of Combat! took place in France in 1944. For this reason I have used the characters from the beginning of the series to combine the two groups. It's not written in stone but it works for me. Enjoy!)

"Saddle up!"

"Where are we going Serge?" Kirby grabbed his gear and headed for Saunders.

"It seems we drew another one of those 'special assignments'." The sergeant answered, shouldering his own pack. "Make sure your packs are loaded. Give me a list of anything you need and I'll make sure you get it."

"Do we know where we're going?" Caje, the squads' scout, asked, shifting his gear in his hands.

"Do we ever?" Saunders replied, giving Kirby a shove to get him out of the way. "Where's Littlejohn?" The sergeant asked, swiveling his head to look around.

"Oh, he said something about getting something to eat." Kirby raised his head from going through his pack. "You know that guy, always hungry."

"He's a growing boy." Caje explained with a smile.

"Well he'd better stop growing or he's going to become too big of a target for the Germans to miss." Kirby muttered under his breath.

"Well he'd better get back here and collect his pack, the truck's waiting to take us to the plane." Saunders counted his men to see if anyone else was missing. "The rest of you check your gear and get situated. Wait right here for me, I'll get Littlejohn and be right back."

"A plane? Going in style are we?" Finishing the check of his gear, Caje set his pack aside to watch the rest of the squad prepare.

"Keep an eye on them Caje, I'll be right back." Saunders stalked off toward the mess tent to find Littlejohn.

"A plane, well what do you know." Kirby looked at Caje, a grin on his usually sour face. "At last somebody recognizes our value. Only the best for us, no more hoofin' it."

Caje grunted, not bothering to answer the teams' BAR man. Walking among the squad, Caje urged the slower men to hurry and get their packs checked. He took the liberty of making a list for the sergeant of anything they would need to requisition. By the time Saunders returned with Littlejohn, everyone else was ready and waiting.

"Hey Serge," Littlejohn checked his pack and hurried to tell the sergeant he was ready, "just how did we get picked for this cushy job anyway?"

"Cushy job?" Saunders turned to Littlejohn, the odd words coming out of his mouth sounded more like Kirby.

"Yeah, that's what Kirby said it is." The big man confirmed for the sergeant. "He says that headquarters has finally realized that they have a good thing with us."

"He did, did he?" The sergeant glared at the BAR man. "Well I'll tell you what Littlejohn, you can't believe everything that Kirby tells you."

"Then this ain't a cushy job?" The private looked toward Kirby in confusion. "He said we were getting a plane and everything."

"Oh, we're getting a plane alright." Saunders confirmed. "But only because they need us there a lot faster than they can get us there by truck."

"Oh."

"Load up, we're running late and that plane won't wait forever." Saunders cajoled and shoved his men to get them moving. They lined up and climbed aboard the truck that would take them to the airstrip. The sergeant studied his men as they slumped in their seats. After nearly three weeks of uninterrupted combat, they all looked beat. Instead of another mission, what they really needed was a rest period somewhere off the line.

"Is Lieutenant Hanley going to meet us at the plane?" Littlejohn asked curiously.

"No, he's not going." Saunders answered loud enough for all of them to hear. "Headquarters says they need him here, so we're going without him."

"Is that a good idea?" Littlejohn frowned at Saunders as the rest of the squad went silent.

"What's the matter Littlejohn, don't you think we can handle it without the Lieutenant? You think we need the L.T. to hold our hand?"

Littlejohn flushed at the sergeants' question. "Naw, nothing like that Serge, I was just asking is all."

The sergeant nodded, willing to drop the subject in favor of a nap. Despite the bouncing of the vehicle there were snores coming from more than one source already.

"Get some sleep Littlejohn, you may not get another chance for a while."

"Okay Serge."

"Hey Serge."

"What is it Billy?" Saunders rolled his shoulders to loosen the muscles. He eyed Billy warily, waiting for another question he couldn't answer.

"Is it alright if I sit next to Littlejohn?"

"Sure Billy." Sliding over, Saunders made room for Billy to squeeze between him and the big man.

"Sarge?"

"What Billy?" Saunders sighed.

"Littlejohn won't really get too big for the Germans to miss if he keeps eating, will he?"

"No Billy, he won't. Kirby was just pulling your leg."

"That's good then."

"Billy."

Billy turned as Littlejohn entered the conversation.

"Yeah Littlejohn?"

"Go to sleep."

"Okay Littlejohn."

Saunders listened to the exchange with relief, he was grateful for the renewed quiet. Stretching his legs out in front of him, he tried to get comfortable and get some sleep himself.

The change in sound of the motor woke him before the driver yelled that they had reached their destination. Groaning with fatigue, the squad began to stir. Saunders watched as they shuffled past him toward the tailgate. One by one they jumped to the ground. The last one out, he looked around quickly to make sure that no one had left anything behind. His knees nearly buckled as he landed behind the truck. He barely caught his balance before someone was shouting at them to 'get on the plane'.

After more shuffling and more grumbling, they entered the cargo bay of the plane. Entering in single file, they dropped their packs on the floor and took seats.

"We have one more stop to make before we get to your destination Sergeant; you and your men make yourselves comfortable." One of the planes' crew members met Saunders at the door. As soon as the squad was settled he reached out and closed the door. Pushing past the reclining men with their feet in the aisle, he headed toward the cockpit to let the pilot know they were ready to take off.