The Rat Patrol Nostalgia

The desert sun, a shimmering hazy sheet, A jeep's low rumble on the burning shifting heat. That opening theme, a brassy bold fanfare, Announcing danger hanging in the air. Remember Troy and Moffitt, Hitchcock, Tully too, Four rugged figures in that khaki dusty hue. Against the Afrika Korps, a constant daring fight, Beneath the endless canvas of the desert night. Their battered jeeps, a symbol of their might, Darting through the dunes in shadows and in light. Machine guns chattering, a furious spitting sound, As German trucks went tumbling upon the sandy ground. The cat-and-mouse pursuit, a tense and thrilling game, Outsmarting Rommel's forces, whispering his name With grudging respect for cunning and for skill, While plotting their next move on some far-off lonely hill. That German captain Hauptmann Dietrich's stare, A worthy adversary always lurking there. The radio crackling voices tense and low, As plans were hatched and traps were set to go. Each episode a mission fraught with risk and speed, Planting demolition answering freedom's need. The camaraderie they shared, a bond forged in the fray, Surviving scorching days and dangers come what may. The vast unending landscape, a character itself, The burning thirst, the mirages on the shelf Of distant horizons, a constant harsh reminder, Of the brutal beauty of the land behind and yonder. Now vintage channels flicker with that grainy, desert scene, A nostalgic echo of heroes lean and keen. The Rat Patrol forever in our minds they roam, Beneath the desert stars so far away from home. ©bfa040825