The men from Barracks 2 were outside, engaged in a game of volleyball, when an antique car came through the gates and stopped in front of the Kommandant's office. The men paused their game to take a look at the car's occupants. The driver, a man who Hogan guessed must be approaching fifty, got out and walked over to the passenger side. He opened the door and an elderly woman got out. She looked to be in her late sixties or early seventies.
The woman started up the steps. The man started to follow, then his eyes fell on the prisoners positioned on both sides of the net. Almost immediately, he headed over to join them.
"Wolfgang! Where do you think you're going?" the woman protested, as she noticed him leaving.
"I've been wanting to give this game a try ever since I saw the Americans demonstrate it at the 1924 Olympics," was the man's reply. "It looks like fun, Mama. I'll be back in a minute."
"Well, make it quick," the woman conceded.
Carter held the ball. Wolfgang stepped up beside him. "Mind if I give it a go?" he asked.
Carter glanced at Hogan, who gave a nod of approval. "Okay," Carter agreed. "You know how?"
"It's been a while since I've seen it done," Wolfgang admitted. "Maybe a quick explanation would help."
Carter quickly explained how to serve the ball, then handed it to the man. Wolfgang brought his hand back and hit the ball quite efficiently, as his mother watched from the porch.
"Nicely done," declared Hogan, walking over to join Carter and Wolfgang. "I'm Colonel Hogan, senior prisoner of war."
Klink chose that moment to step out of his office and join the woman on the porch. Noticing the man at Hogan's side, Klink exclaimed, "Wolfie! What are you doing with my prisoners?"
"Just wanted to give it a try, Willie," Wolfgang answered, as he started for the porch.
"Willie?" repeated Hogan, as he watched the man leave. Then, he spared a puzzled glance at his men, before his attention turned back to the activity on the porch.
"Mama…Wolfgang…why didn't you tell me you were coming?" Klink asked.
"We wanted to surprise you, Liebchen," the woman, obviously Klink's mother, replied. Without another thought, she reached out and quickly hugged her son.
Klink could almost picture his face turning red, as he protested, "Mama, please. Not in front of everyone."
It didn't help matters any that he heard Hogan's chuckle and that Newkirk yelled, "Let's hear it for Mama!" This brought more laughter and muttered approval from the rest of the prisoners.
"Hogan, control your men or there will be reprisals," Klink threatened.
"Party pooper," muttered Hogan, as he turned around and silenced his men.
Klink gave the prisoners a menacing glare, then turned his attention back to his family. "Let's take this reunion inside," he suggested. "After you, Mama."
Klink opened the door for his mother to enter. Then, Wolfgang and Klink followed her in.
"So, they are Klink's mother and brother," stated Kinch, as the prisoners lost interest in the now empty porch.
"Obviously," agreed Hogan. "And if this is any indication, their visit might prove quite interesting…or at least, a useful distraction for Klink."
"Klink's brother seemed to be a likable guy," observed Carter.
"YOU'D think so," Newkirk declared. "Considering this is the chap that blew up the factory where he was working. Mixing chemicals in the cellar, I believe. Sound familiar?"
- - -
Klink was seated behind his desk. His mother and brother were seated in chairs in front.
"So, Mama, how long do you plan to visit?" Klink asked.
"I haven't decided yet," his mother replied. "With Wolfgang still out of work, we're in no hurry to get back."
"I suppose you have a room at the hotel in town," Klink guessed, secretly hoping they did.
"Of course not. Wilhelm, we came to see you. How are we to do that if we're in town and you're here? You can put us up, can't you?"
Klink considered it a moment. "Well, I suppose I could let the two of you use the VIP quarters. If other guests should arrive during your visit, you can have my bedroom, Mama, and I'll sleep on the couch. Wolfgang…now, that might be a problem." Klink paused a moment deep in thought. Then, suddenly his expression brightened as he had what he believed to be a terrific idea. "I know. He can bunk with the prisoners in Barracks 2. He can share Hogan's quarters."
"Hogan?"
Wolfgang answered this time. "Ja, Mama. The senior prisoner of war. I met him outside earlier. Seemed like a nice fellow."
Klink gave Wolfgang a disgruntled look. "Hogan?" he grumbled. "Ja. He's nice enough, sometimes. But too often, that man can be terribly annoying."
"If he's that bad, then why place Wolfgang there?" Klink's mother wanted to know.
Klink smiled. "Revenge." Oh, how he savored the sound of that word.
"On which one?" his mother wondered.
Klink's grin seemed to grow. "Both," he admitted, envisioning the turbulence his idea might cause.
"Now, Wilhelm. You be nice to your brother," his mother ordered. "He has had his share of bad luck lately…the factory closing and all."
"And no job at the moment," Wolfgang added.
"Well…it's not my fault you blew up the factory," Klink huffily noted.
Their mother's eyes seem to flash. "Shh," she insisted, quietly. "That's supposed to be a secret. The investigators believe it was the Allied bombers(1). You don't want your brother getting into trouble, do you?"
Klink pondered the possibility. His mother grew impatient. "Wilhelm!" she practically shouted.
"No, Mama. I guess I don't," Klink timidly responded, sounding like a chastised schoolboy. "Now, how about I show you the VIP quarters so you can get settled in. Then, I'll talk to Hogan about having a special dinner prepared for this evening. I'm sure you'll enjoy it.
Both his mother and brother seemed surprised at that revelation. "You discuss dinner plans with prisoners?" his mother asked.
"Ordinarily, no," Klink replied. "But sometimes I want something special prepared. There's this terrific little French chef in Hogan's barracks, see? Everyone seems impressed with his cooking. I utilize his talents from time to time. I think this evening is an appropriate occasion. Sort of a welcome dinner for my family."
Klink's mother appeared disappointed. "You don't want to eat Mama's cooking, Liebchen?"
"Not tonight, if you don't mind," Klink quickly stated, trying to soothe her. "You two just got here. Take it easy. Enjoy yourself. Give us a little time to catch up on things. You can cook breakfast if you like."
"All right, Wilhelm," his mother conceded. "If that will make you happy. I'll prepare you something special in the morning."
"Danke," acknowledged Klink, as he stood up and started to walk around his desk. "Now, if you two will follow me, I'll show you to your quarters."
- - -
Time was short so Klink decided not to waste time sending for Hogan. Once he'd seen his family settled in, he headed for Barracks 2 and entered without knocking. Hogan and his team were seated at the table. A few other prisoners were sitting or laying on their bunks.
"Hogan, I'd like a word with you," Klink declared. "In your quarters."
"Trying to hide from Mama?" Hogan quipped.
Klink scowled, clearly annoyed. "Hogan, I'm not in the mood for your insolence. I want to speak with you. Now."
"All right, I'm coming," Hogan responded, unable to keep the small grin from his face. Hogan headed for his quarters and Klink followed. Once they were inside and the door was closed, Hogan asked, "Now, just what's so important?"
"I need LeBeau to prepare a special dinner this evening…for Mama and Wolfgang."
Hogan frowned. "On such short notice? LeBeau's not going to be too happy about this."
"I don't care if he's happy or not," declared Klink. "So long as he cooks dinner."
"There will have to be special concessions," Hogan insisted.
Klink was expecting this. "Like?"
"An extra hour of electricity every night this week. And two extra slices of white bread for each prisoner."
Klink tried to bargain. "A half hour of electricity and one slice of white bread."
With a smug smile, Hogan shook his head. He had Klink right where he wanted him. "I said special concessions," he reminded Klink. "No bargaining. An hour of electricity and two slices of bread. Either that or no chef."
After shaking his fist and grunting, Klink conceded, "Oh, all right. But he'd better fix something special. And I expect Carter to help serve."
"Okay, I'll convince them," Hogan agreed. "What time would you like dinner?"
"Seven."
"Good. Then, I'll send them over in plenty of time to prepare."
"Danke." Klink nodded in acknowledgement and left the room. Hogan paused a moment before following, to plan how he was going to present the request to his men. Then, he headed back towards the common room.
1 The Gypsy