Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hogan's Heroes characters. No infringement of the copyright laws is intended or implied.
"Boy, am I glad we're back!" Carter exclaimed as he climbed down the tree stump to the safety of the tunnel below. Being last in line, he reached up and closed the lid behind him before he jumped off the ladder.
"Me, too, Carter," Kinch said, absently brushing the dirt off the black shirt he was wearing. "That was a little too close for my comfort."
"Oui, I hope we don't run into trouble like that again any time soon!" LeBeau looked over at Newkirk, "Right, Pierre?"
"You got that right, mate!"
Hogan frowned at them. "All right, fellas, go get changed, we have roll call in 15 minutes," he stated tersely.
"Yes, sir," they mumbled and headed down the tunnel to change out of their black outfits.
Hogan followed them, having to change, himself. The men were quiet as they put on their uniforms, and when they were finished, they all headed up to the barracks.
Evening roll call came and went, and once they were dismissed, they piled back into the building. Newkirk, Kinch and Carter took a seat at the table, while LeBeau went over to the stove to heat up some coffee. Carter was the first to speak.
"Well, at least we took care of the refinery plant. Boy, did you see that place blow up after we left? Blam! Kerplow!" Carter made noises with his mouth, trying to imitate the explosion.
"Yeah, Andrew, we all saw it. Right before that bloody patrol showed up."
"Talk about bad timing," Kinch interjected.
LeBeau shook his head. "Those lousy Boche! Why did they have to show up right then?"
Hogan was becoming visibly annoyed. "All right, so we ran into some trouble," he retorted, "But we made it back, and it's done…and I don't want to hear any more about it!" He turned and stormed off to his quarters, slamming the door behind him.
Just then Wilson entered the barracks. He glanced around the room and, as his eyes lighted on the men sitting at the table, asked, "Where's the Colonel?"
No one said anything for a moment. Then Newkirk, who was seated with his back to the door, piped up, "'E's in 'is office, but I wouldn't go in there if I were you."
"Oh?" Wilson raised his eyebrow, "Why not?"
"He's not in a very good mood tonight," LeBeau said as he turned from the stove and set two cups of coffee down on the table. Then he went to fill some more, and asked absently, "Would you like some coffee, Wilson?"
"Uh, no thanks, LeBeau, but I would like to talk to Colonel Hogan…why is he in a bad mood?"
LeBeau shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows?"
"I think it was because we had a little trouble with a German patrol on the way back from blowing up a refinery plant tonight," Carter explained, "That's when he started getting mad."
"Well, I can see him being angry about that," Wilson remarked.
"Oh, but he wasn't angry then," Carter continued, "He didn't get mad until after we got away."
Wilson frowned in confusion. "Why would he get mad after you escaped from the patrol?"
"That's what we'd like to know!" LeBeau quipped.
Kinch shot a quick glance at Newkirk. Then he looked up at Wilson with an intense expression on his face and said, "The colonel has been a little on edge lately. I think he could use someone to talk to."
Wilson studied Kinch for a moment, reading in his eyes what the sergeant was trying to tell him, and replied, "Well then, I think I'll go have a little talk with him right now."
"Good luck!" Newkirk called out as Wilson headed for Hogan's quarters.
When Wilson got there, he knocked three times on the door loudly, and listened for a response from inside.
"Yes, what is it?" Hogan responded irritably.
Wilson opened the door and stepped into the room. "Colonel, I'd like to speak to you, if that's all right," he tentatively replied.
"Oh, yes, Wilson, come in," Hogan answered in a softer tone. He was standing in front of the window, having paused there from his pacing when he'd heard Wilson knock.
Wilson closed the door and walked farther into the room, and when Hogan gestured to the chair by his desk, he smiled and took a seat. "I hope I'm not bothering you, Colonel," he said.
"No, it's all right," Hogan answered, although his voice sounded strained. "What can I do for you?"
"Well, I just wanted to let you know that I'm running low on supplies, and I was hoping you could ask London to make a drop in the near future."
"Of course, Wilson," Hogan said, "Anything you need. Just make a list, and I'll have Kinch radio them with the request."
"Thank you, sir," Wilson replied gratefully. Then he looked at Hogan with concern and asked, "I heard you had a rather stressful mission tonight. You want to talk about it?"
Hogan's face darkened, "Who told you about that?" he retorted angrily.
"Does it matter?" Wilson responded calmly, "Look, whatever happened, it obviously upset you, and I know you'd feel better if you got it out in the open."
Hogan glared at him for a moment, then he let out a huge sigh. "You're probably right, Wilson," he replied, walking over and plopping down on the bottom bunk, "As long as this stays between us."
"I promise Colonel," Wilson said, turning in his chair to face him, "Anything you tell me will remain strictly confidential."
Hogan stared at Wilson, trying to determine exactly what he wanted to say. Finally he stated, "All right, if you must know, it was the German patrol that found us after we took care of the refinery plant."
* * * * * *
"Hey, did you fellas see that?" Carter whispered loudly to the others as they stood there, watching the explosions going off. They'd been headed back to camp, but when the sound started behind them, they'd turned around and paused briefly to catch a glimpse of their handiwork.
Before anyone could answer him, Hogan suddenly caught a glimpse of movement to their right, and as he squinted in the darkness, began to make out a group of German soldiers headed straight for them. "Patrol coming!" he hissed loudly, "Run!"
Every head instinctively turned to follow Hogan's gaze, and then they were off; sprinting through the woods, running as fast as they dared without getting tripped up by the rocks and tree roots in their path. They split off into different directions, each of them mentally crossing his fingers that they hadn't been spotted, but it wasn't meant to be.
The sound of gunshots ripped through the night, and shouts of, "Halt!" echoed throughout the surrounding woods as the German soldiers split up and took off after them.
Carter and LeBeau were in the lead, and as they ran, they soon noticed the sounds of the soldiers fading behind them. They slowed their pace and glanced around, wondering where the other men had gone, and if they might need help. They looked at each other, and then noticed a large section of underbrush just off to their right. It only took them a moment to decide to hunker down in the cover of the brush and wait a few minutes, hoping to see the rest of the gang appear.
Hogan, Kinch and Newkirk had taken a different route, and weren't having as much luck shaking the Germans that were chasing them. But they kept running, and after a few minutes, didn't hear anyone behind them. Hogan slowed to a walk, letting Kinch catch up to him. Newkirk was still several paces behind, and as they both turned to wait for him, they heard a shout in German. They instinctively dove for cover; Hogan going one way, Kinch the other.
Just then Newkirk appeared in their field of vision, walking backwards slowly with his hands in the air. He had the business end of a rifle aimed squarely at his chest, and the German soldier pointing it at him didn't look too happy.
"That's far enough!" The soldier barked at Newkirk in German. His eyes darted quickly back and forth; his gaze coming to rest on a large tree that happened to be right between where Hogan and Kinch were hiding. "Over there!" he shouted, motioning to the tree with his rifle.
Newkirk backed up against the tree, keeping his eyes warily on the soldier. The German stared back menacingly. "Who are you?" he asked Newkirk suspiciously, "And why are you dressed that way?"
"What, this old thing?" Newkirk answered in German, glancing down at the black clothes he had on. The next thing he knew, the back of the soldier's hand came flying across his cheek.
"You will answer my questions!" The soldier yelled angrily. Then his eyes narrowed, "I know who you are…you are a spy. It was you who destroyed the refinery plant!"
"All by myself?" Newkirk received his answer to that question with another backhand across his face.
"Tell me where your friends are!" the soldier ordered, and then added, "If you do, I might let you live."
Newkirk just glared at him.
A malicious smile formed on the German's face. He raised his rifle and pointed it at Newkirk's head. "Very well, spy, have it your way…"
Suddenly a noise erupted from the bushes to the soldier's left, and Kinch came flying out at the German, tackling him to the ground. He knocked the rifle out of his hands, rolled him onto his stomach and sat on top of him while pulling his hands behind his back. The soldier struggled, but he couldn't match Kinch's strength.
"That was bloody marvelous!" Newkirk exclaimed, switching back to English. "You just saved me life, you did!"
"Well, I figured things would get pretty boring around here without you," Kinch replied, grinning up at the Englishman.
Just then Hogan emerged from his hiding place. "Good job," he said, addressing Kinch; his voice sounding a little strange. Then he looked at Newkirk and asked, "Are you all right?"
"Yes, sir," Newkirk replied, "Just a bit shakin' up is all."
Hogan nodded. "We better get out of here."
"What about him, sir?" Kinch glanced at the German that was still pinned underneath him.
"We'll tie him up; someone's bound to find him eventually." Hogan said. He reached down and removed the soldier's belt, and wrapped it tightly around his wrists. Then they took off for camp, eventually meeting up with Carter and LeBeau, and made it back to Stalag 13 without further incident.
* * * * * *
"That does sound like a pretty stressful mission, Colonel," Wilson remarked when Hogan had finished. "But I still don't understand why it upset you so much. You've been through worse situations."
Hogan stared at the floor for a moment, strengthening his resolve, then looked up at Wilson and said, "I froze out there, Joe. Newkirk was about to be killed by that German soldier, and I…froze."
Wilson looked confused. "What do you mean, you froze?"
"I froze!" Hogan practically shouted, "That soldier had his gun pointed at Newkirk, and all I could picture was Steiger; threatening him and torturing him and…and suddenly I couldn't move. If it hadn't been for Kinch…" His voice trailed off and he went back to staring at the floor.
"Colonel, what exactly did happen when Steiger was holding you and Newkirk at that house?" Wilson asked.
Hogan kept his gaze on the floor, letting his internal debate rage on for a few moments. Then he looked up at Wilson, his need to talk declaring victory at last. He opened his mouth and proceeded to tell Wilson everything; every detail, every conversation with Steiger, every horrifying thing that happened, especially to Newkirk. When he finished, he sat there looking at the medic in silence for a few more moments, and then his face took on a pained expression, and he said, "I couldn't stop him, Joe. Steiger almost killed Newkirk with his bare hands, and I…couldn't stop him."
Wilson was beginning to understand. "No, you couldn't, Colonel. No one in your situation could have. You can't blame yourself…"
"Can't blame myself?" Hogan interrupted, his voice growing louder, "I'm responsible for my men. I'm supposed to keep things like this from happening to them. It's my fault we ended up getting nabbed by that psychopath, which makes it my fault for what happened to Newkirk."
Wilson shook his head vigorously. "No, Colonel, it's not your fault. There's no way you could have known that Steiger was still alive, or what he was planning to do. You couldn't have prevented it…"
"But I should have!" Hogan exclaimed, "I should have put two and two together faster, and figured it out. But instead, I got us both captured, and I had to stand there and watch Steiger cut Newkirk, and come close to strangling him, and I couldn't do anything to stop him!" Hogan leaped up from the bunk and started pacing the room, looking almost frantic. Then he stopped and looked at Wilson. "I've never felt so helpless, Joe. Newkirk is one of my men, and I couldn't help him; I couldn't protect him." Then he walked over and sat back down on the bunk and, after letting out a defeated sigh, he uttered, "I let him down."
Wilson didn't say anything for a few moments. When he spoke up, his voice was soft yet sure. "You didn't let Newkirk down, Colonel, and if you asked him, I'm sure he'd say the same thing. He knows the risks involved with what you're doing here; heck, he even volunteered for the job. He didn't deserve what happened to him, but there's nothing you could have done to stop it. Let's face it, sir; there are some very evil men in this world."
Hogan searched Wilson's eyes, and then replied, "I know. That's how we all ended up here in the first place, isn't it? And I've lost men under my command before; it's inevitable during a war. But there's something about this operation here…I guess I've become more protective of these men. Maybe it's because they volunteered, maybe it's because they all have irreplaceable skills, maybe it's because our missions are so dangerous…"
"Maybe it's because they're your friends," Wilson interjected.
Hogan looked surprised at the thought, but soon enough the corners of his mouth started to curl up. "Maybe you're right," he said, allowing his grin take over.
Wilson smiled back. "It's understandable, Colonel. I mean, you live with these guys twenty-four hours a day…how could you not become close? But that's what makes you all work together so well, you know? And don't forget, Steiger is dead, and you and Newkirk not only survived, but you're going on missions and taking care of business, as you should be. I think it's time to put that madman where he belongs…in the past. You've got enough work to do; and you've got a great bunch of guys out there who are willing to work with you. I'm convinced you're going to make it through this war, and they're going to be at your side the whole way."
Hogan listened to Wilson, and when the medic was through, he felt like a weight had suddenly been lifted from him. "You're right," he replied, "I do have a great team working for me. It's time I lay Steiger to rest…after all, he is gone, isn't he? And it looks like Newkirk has even recovered quite a bit…" Suddenly his eyes widened in alarm. "Newkirk! What happened out there tonight…"
"I wouldn't worry about it, Colonel," Wilson cut in, "He'll be all right. It doesn't sound like he got hurt too bad."
"But he could have been. I froze out there, remember? If Kinch hadn't been there…"
"But he was there, and you knew it. Your subconscious probably knew that Kinch would react the way he did. If he hadn't been there, I bet you would have tackled that German soldier yourself."
Hogan contemplated that for a moment. "You think so?" he finally replied.
"I know so," Wilson answered with conviction.
"Well, in any case, the next time Newkirk's in danger, I won't hesitate."
"I'm sure you won't, Colonel," Wilson said, "In fact, I'd say things around here are finally returning to normal."
"Depends on what you consider normal," Hogan replied, chuckling. Then he looked at Wilson gratefully. "Thanks, Joe," he said sincerely, "I do feel better after talking to you."
"That's what I'm here for," Wilson responded, "Now, why don't you get some rest? After all, tomorrow is another day…" (1)
"Seems to me I've heard that in a movie," Hogan replied with a smirk on his face.
Wilson just grinned at him.
"All right, I'll get some rest," Hogan said, returning the smile, "And you better do the same."
"Yes, sir," Wilson responded, rising from the chair. When he got to the door, he turned back to look at Hogan. "If you ever need to talk things out, Colonel, I'm always here."
"I know, Wilson, and I appreciate it."
Wilson flashed him one more smile, grabbed the doorknob, and let himself out. He closed the door to Hogan's quarters and walked over to the men still seated at the table. As he approached, he could see a large red mark on Newkirk's cheek. "I see you had more than your share of trouble this evening, Newkirk," he said.
"Nothin' I couldn't 'andle," Newkirk replied smugly.
"Ahem," Kinch cleared his throat and stared at Newkirk, his eyes narrowing.
"I mean, nothin' Kinch 'ere couldn't 'andle," Newkirk corrected himself, glancing at Kinch apologetically.
"I see," Wilson said, inwardly smirking, "Well, if it's bothering you, I've got some aspirin back in my barracks."
"Thanks, Wilson, but it doesn't 'urt that much," Newkirk replied.
"All right," Wilson said, then he turned to Kinch, "I'm running low on supplies, and the colonel told me to make a list and give it to you, so you could pass it on to London and request a drop."
"Sure, Wilson, no problem," Kinch replied.
Wilson nodded. "Okay, I'll have that list for you first thing in the morning." Then he turned and headed for the barrack's door, calling out, "Goodnight," along the way.
The men bid him goodnight, and no sooner had Wilson left, than Hogan emerged from his quarters.
"I thought I smelled coffee out here," Hogan said, looking at the pot on the stove.
"Would you like some, mon Colonel?" LeBeau asked, grabbing the pot and a clean cup.
"Yes, thank you," Hogan replied. After LeBeau handed him the cup of coffee he took a sip, and then looked at Newkirk. "How's your cheek?" he said.
"Much better, Colonel," Newkirk answered, "I 'ardly notice it."
"That's good. Sorry you had to go through that, Newkirk."
"Oh, that's all right, sir," Newkirk said, looking a little surprised, "The Germans 'ave a way of showin' up at the wrong time, don't they?"
"Yes, they do," Hogan said, "I'm just glad you're okay." Then he glanced around at his men and smiled, "You all did a fine job tonight. I just wanted to let you know that I appreciate it."
The men uttered their thanks, smiling back and looking at him curiously.
Hogan nodded, and without another word, turned and went back into his quarters.
The silence stretched for a few moments, and then Carter piped up, "The colonel seems to be in a better mood now, doesn't he?"
"Yes, he does," Kinch said.
"Maybe Wilson cheered him up," LeBeau suggested.
Newkirk grinned, "Looks that way, doesn't it, mates?"
"Well, whatever happened, I'm glad the colonel's feeling better," Kinch stated. He glanced at his watch and then at the others, and added, "I think it's about time for us to get ready for bed; we've got lights out in fifteen minutes."
They all got up and began to get ready for bed. As they settled into their respective bunks, each of them breathed a sigh of relief; glad to see that Hogan was back to his old self again.
(1) From the 1939 movie, "Gone With the Wind".
