Disclaimer: I don't own Hogan's Heroes. This story is for entertainment purposes only.
The characters in this story are fictional, any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.

Christmas in Georgia consisted of rain that drizzled down the window panes at a steady pace. It had been raining since the night before and gave no indication of letting up. Issac Wilkerson sat watching his sons as they played Monopoly with their own children. The toddlers, who were too young for board games, played with the toys they'd unwrapped less than an hour earlier. The screams and squeals of delight had subdued to contentment and joyful laughter.

Issac had always loved Christmas and this year was especially sweet because all of his family had gotten together for Christmas dinner. The radio was playing Christmas music in the background creating a warm, festive atmosphere. Issac chuckled when Andrew, his youngest son, playfully accused his brother, Peter, of cheating. Robert, his oldest son, broke up the playful wrestling that had ensued and insisted they get back to the game for the children's sake. Patty, his oldest granddaughter rolled her teenage eyes and propped a hand on her hip, "Come on, Uncle Andy, the babies are acting more mature than you are."
"Yeah!" Peter agreed, "You landed on my Boardwalk Hotel fair and square! Now, pay up."
Andy reluctantly mortgaged several properties in order to pay.

"Issac!"

Issac turned toward his wife, Lucy. Her once golden hair was now littered with gray and it was slipping out of its up-do. "Would you, please, keep the kids out of the kitchen?" she said, plopping a child on his lap and giving him a towel. "We'll never be done with dinner at this rate." she complained as she went back to the kitchen. Issac took the towel and wiped the whipped cream off of the child's chubby face. "Grandma doesn't like you eating her dessert before dinner, Bobby." he told the two year-old. The boy squirmed out of his grasp and ran over to his father, who let out a groan of surprise when the child jumped on his back. Robert rolled over slowly and caught his namesake in a hug.

The Monopoly game devolved into arguing again, only this time it was Louis who accused Peter of cheating. Issac cleared his throat loudly, "I think that's enough Monopoly for now. Why don't you take a fifteen minute break?"
Patty stood and stretched, "I think you're right, Grandpa." she sat down on the couch and ordered her younger brother to turn on the television. "It's just a silly game." she added, airily.

"Grandpa, isn't this your plane." Eleven year-old, Jack asked bounding over with his new book on World War Two aircraft. Issac studied the illustration and shook his head, "No, that's a Marauder. I flew a Fortress."

"What was it like?" he asked, the eagerness in his voice was unmistakable.

"Breath-taking." Issac replied, smiling at his grandson's exuberance. "It's the most freeing thing you could possibly imagine. When the sky's clear you can see for miles. Mountain, rivers, lakes… you name it, they all look more beautiful from the sky." he winked, "I'll have to take you up sometime."

Jack got excited, "Really!? Could we go now? Please, Grandpa?"

Peter chuckled and draped an arm around his son's shoulder, "You can't fly in this kind of weather, Jack." Jack's shoulders drooped, "But, perhaps Grandpa could tell you one of his old war stories. Your uncles and I used to listen to them all the time when we were little."

"Yeah, Dad." Andy piped up, "Tell them about your escape from the prison camp."

"Would you like that, Jack?" Issac asked and almost laughed when the boy nodded so quickly that he resembled a bobble head. Jack settled on to the floor and some of his cousins and siblings also gathered around Issac's easy chair. The general consensus being that story time with Grandpa was always the best. "Well, now," Issac picked up his pipe and began to fill it from his small tobacco pouch, "where shall I begin?"

"How long were you in the camp?" Alan asked. Alan was Louis' only boy and he was the most studious nine year-old Issac had ever known.

Issac put the pouch back into the end table's drawer and lit his pipe, "I was shot down in August of '42. I was on the run for a week, before the krauts caught me. They questioned me for about three weeks."

"You didn't tell them anything, right?" Jack frowned.

"No," His grandfather assured him with a chuckle, "but afterward, I was taken to what they called a stalag. I was only there for about three months, before we escaped. The prisoners had started a tunnel months before I was captured." He puffed on his pipe, "We dug the tunnel out with spoons, sticks, or whatever we could find and if we couldn't find anything, we used our fingers. We completed the tunnel in early days of December, but we didn't try an escape until a couple of weeks later, about four days before Christmas. I remember all the guys joking that I'd be the most likely to make it out of Germany because I looked German with my blond hair and blue eyes." Issac smiled as he fondly remembered the ribbing, "I can still remember what Major Blackwell, our senior officer, told us before we climbed out of the tunnel..."

H~H

"Alright, lads." Blackwell called down through the tunnel, "The tunnel opens right beside the forest. The goons in the watch towers can still see you, so watch for the spotlights." When all the men nodded, Blackwell continued, "Don't get into groups. Spread out. We want jerry to have quite a time looking for us."

I didn't know Blackwell too well, but he was a proper British officer who insisted that any and all orders be followed to the letter. Blackwell would peak out to make sure each man was in to the cover of the trees before tapping on the next man's shoulder. I was the fifth in line and I'll be honest with you, each time I inched forward a small pang of fear would bubble up. I reached the front of the line and Blackwell put a hand on my shoulder, just as he had all the men before me, "Good luck and be careful, yank."

I took a deep breath and stuck my head through the hole in the turf. The spotlight had just passed, so I pulled myself up and scrambled for the woods. I got behind a thick group of bushes as the spotlight came back around. I took several deep breaths and started to think about what my next move should be. I had spoken with a lot of the men in the stalag, especially the ones who had attempted escapes before. They all had one common theme, they ran. They didn't plan passed getting out of the stalag and across the border. Most of the men the ran south in hopes of making it to Switzerland, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that if I were the krauts that would be the first place I'd look. I made up my mind and went north. I thought perhaps I'd stow-away on a boat bound for one of the Nordic countries. I walked for miles before finding a road. I followed that road, but stayed off to the side in case any krauts came along.

It was mid-morning before I finally put my forged papers to the test. I found myself walking down the main street of this little town. It had a bakery, and a butcher's, and two or three little shops. I spotted a squad of Germans driving toward me. I got so nervous, I hadn't any idea if they were searching for me or if they were just passing through. I slipped into one of the little shops and was immediately relieved to find it was a cafe. I found a table near the back and studied the small, paper menu. I hoped that they would just drive past and leave the cafe alone.

"Guten Morgen, was kann ich Ihnen bringen?"

I glanced up from the menu and met a smiling face. She was maybe twenty, definitely not any older, with sandy brown hair and blue eyes. I cleared my throat and pointed to something on the menu. She read it out and I nodded, adding the only few German words I knew, "Und bier, bitte." The bell at the top of the door tinkled and we both looked up. My heart dropped when I spotted the krauts from the street. She smiled sweetly at me and left my table. She spoke to an older man in the kitchen before making her way to the soldiers. I tried my best to look inconspicuous and almost groaned when they sat down and began to order.

I fumbled with the table cloth and waited for an opportunity to get up and leave. I had just started to get up, when the girl returned to my table and placed a glass of beer in front of me. She rattled off several sentences and I nodded, smiling politely. She gave me an odd look, but left with out saying anything. I sipped my beer and watched the krauts out of the corner of my eye. They were laughing and not really paying much attention to anyone around them. The girl went back to the table and spoke quietly to the leader, a sergeant. He scowled at me and I tensed. She's alerted him. I thought, There's no way to get out of the cafe, they're between me and the door… I could jump through that window…

I was considering doing just that when the girl placed a plate on my table. "Genießen." she said, before going back to the kitchen. I looked down at my plate and grinned. I had ordered some sort of sausage and a pretzel. I picked up the silverware from the plate and cut into the sausage. I hadn't had any meat in months and the food at camp was hardly edible. I took a bite and closed my eyes, savoring the flavor before swallowing.

"Sag mir, ist es gut?" the sergeant called out. He seemed annoyed at me, "Du hast das letzte Stück Wurst genommen. Also, ich hoffe, es ist gut." I pretended not to hear him and continued eating. "Hey du da drüben… Gib mir eine Antwort!" He stood and made his way over to my table. I looked up and tried to smile. "Wie heißen Sie?" he asked, angrily. When I didn't say anything, he grabbed the collar of my coat and pulled me to my feet. He repeated his question and gave me a rough shake. His comrades had turned and began to get up.

"Warte ab! Was machst du mit ihm?" the girl cried out as she hurried over to us. The sergeant's voice was low, almost a growl, as he spoke with her. She listened and then spoke quickly. The sergeant studied her and then me, "Ist das wahr?"The girl gave me a slight nod and I nodded slowly. He released me and spat, "Ausweispapiere." That I understood; I pulled the papers out of my inside coat pocket and presented them without hesitation. He studied them while I waited anxiously. He grunted and shoved the papers back into my hands, "Alles ist in Ordnung… genießen Sie Ihr Frühstück." he walked back to his table and flopped into his seat, still glowering. I took my seat and ate quietly while being sure to avoid his gaze.

The girl had gone back to the kitchen, but returned in a few minutes with a tray of food. She set the tray on the soldiers' table and set their food in front of them. She smiled at them sweetly before moving back to my table. "français?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Englishman?"
My eyes snapped up to hers… she spoke English. "What are you going to do?" I asked, quietly.

She gave me a soft chuckle and began to clear my empty dishes, "Ah, you're an American."

"You didn't answer my question." my tone was sharp, but this was my life on the line and she didn't seem very concerned. She put the tray against her hip and said, "You need to get back to London and I know how to get you there. I'll get you some coffee and you stay until they go."

She didn't give me a chance to respond. So, I waited… and waited… almost an hour passed as the soldiers ate, drank, and joked with one another. The girl flitted between their table and the kitchen. I was beginning to think they'd never leave when the sergeant finally slapped some money on the table and roused the men from their seats. The girl escorted them to the door and bid them farewell.

As soon as the soldiers were out of sight, she turned back to me. "Papa!" she called, "Papa, come quick." The middle-aged man from the kitchen came in and gestured for me to sit back down. "Inge tells me you are American." he spoke English; however, unlike his daughter, his English was heavily accented and at times, halting. "Why are you here?"

I sighed, "I'm going home." they stared at me and, after a moment, I realized they wanted more, "I… I'm Lieutenant Wilkerson and I escaped from Stalag 13-D, last night."

"And you want help, ja?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "You want me to risk my life and Inge's to get you home?"

"I didn't ask for your help." I snapped, "and if your Inge hadn't of interfered, I'd be gone by now." Inge's eyes flashed, "Without me, you would be back at the stalag."

Heat rose to my cheeks because I knew she was right. That sergeant would have caught on to the fact that I didn't speak German and he would have sent me back to camp. I swallowed my pride, "You're right… I, uh… thank you."

Inge's father asked for my papers and when I turned them over, he inspected them. "Good, but they won't fool the Gestapo." he said, handing them back. He turned to Inge and spoke quickly. She nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. "Where is she going?" I asked, as he led me around the counter to the staircase behind. "Where are you taking me?"

The man opened a door and guided me into a small bedroom, "For a man on the run, you ask too many questions. You've been running since you escaped, ja?" I nodded. He went over to the door and said, "You sleep now and later you'll go see Papa Bear." He shut the door behind him, even though I wanted to ask more questions.

I looked around for a moment before sitting on the bed. Well, I thought as I stretched out on the bed, I'm stuck in a cafe with everybody and their brother looking for me and the crazy man downstairs is talking fairy tales… Papa Bear, my eye… I closed my eyes and let the exhaustion take over.

Translation:
Guten Morgen, was kann ich Ihnen bringen? - Good morning, what can I bring you?
Und bier, bitte. - And beer, please.
Genießen. - Enjoy
Sag mir, ist es gut? - Tell me, is it good?
Du hast das letzte Stück Wurst genommen. Also, ich hoffe, es ist gut. - You took the last piece of sausage. So, I hope it's good.
Hey du da drüben… Gib mir eine Antwort! -Hey you over there... Give me an answer!
Wie heißen Sie? - What's your name?
Warte ab! Was machst du mit ihm? - Wait! What are you doing with him?
Ist das wahr? - Is that true?
Ausweispapiere. - Identification Papers
Alles ist in Ordnung… genießen Sie Ihr Frühstück. - Everything is in order… enjoy you breakfast.
Français? - French?

Author's Note: Hey, everybody! This was supposed to be done and posted before Christmas, but I got distracted… by Christmas.
I hope you all had a Merry Christmas and a Happy Hanukkah. (Plus Kwanza and Boxing Day and all those other end of the year holidays.) This story will be short. As a matter of fact, I have one more chapter left to write. So, I'll be updating, consistently, over the next three or four days. Please enjoy! :D