I Mean Seriously?

The frost on the ground made a harsh crunching sound as Leutnant Paul Bergman stomped heavily through the compound. His mood had been gradually darkening since the birth of his son, Erich, in October. Now it was February, and he still hadn't gotten the promised leave to see his son. Bergman was aware that the Kommandant's staff were almost nonexistent due to so many transfers needed to shore up defensive positions. He also knew that he was lucky to still be at Stalag XIII, and not on the front lines. But Verflixt, he wanted to go home. Dresden was so faraway, and it had been a year since he had seen his beautiful wife, Hedda. Each day he waited here seemed to be an eternity.

It didn't help that there were rumors the Russians were quickly approaching the city. In her most recent letter, Hedda had mentioned the Allies had dropped pamphlets stating they were going to bomb the city if they did not stop stockpiling military supplies. She had been assured that it was just propaganda and the Allies would never bomb them. Still Bergman was nervous and he had gone to the Kommandant with his concerns. To his credit, Klink tried to find out information from his superiors, but his inquires were not answered. Bergman half seriously considered taking part in the next escape attempt.

His belly growled in hunger. If it were spring or summer, he would attempt to boil up some grass, just to sedate for a time his obnoxious internal organs. "Well this is great," he thought bitterly. Now he was worried if Hedda and Erich were getting enough to eat. And it is so cold. Were they warm? "I hate this place," he thought as he kicked a nearby trash can in frustration.

"Are you ok sir?", a cherry voice behind him inquired.

Bergman spun around with the intention of verbally ripping the speaker to shreds, only to be confronted by the smiling face of Obergefreiter Karl Langenscheidt. When met with such sincerity of spirit, one had no choice but to smile too.'

"Yes..yes, I am fine...danke. Just a little home sick."

The Obergefreiter nodded sagely. "It is a feeling I think we are all very familiar with. But it must be hard not being able to see your little one. Maybe today is your lucky day."

"Maybe, but I wouldn't count on it," Bergman sighed.

Langenscheidt saluted Bergman and returned to his patrol of the compound. Bergman smiled at the retreating figure before a slight frown crossed his face. In the middle of the compound and in view of the guards and prisoners, Bergman stood befuddled as to where he had been going. He tried to remember, but it was a blank, and now he had been standing there long enough to start to draw attention to himself. His cheeks began to burn with embarrassment. He looked quickly around trying to come up with something that would take him away from all the attention he was drawing, when he spotted Colonel Hogan. He quickly began to march towards him.

"Colonel Hogan, your men were slovenly and unshaven at roll call this morning," he said coming to a stop in front of the American.

"And? That's every morning Lieutenant," Hogan sighed inattentively.

"Tomorrow I expect them to present themselves as the airmen that they purport to be."

"Noted."

"Good, then we understand each other."

Bergman turned, and took two steps towards the kitchens, when Hogan interjected, "The Kommandantur".

"What?" he said, turning back to the POW.

"The Kommandantur. That is where you were going before you lost your train of thought. The Big Cheese wants you for something."

"And how would you know that?"

"Because you get that crease between the eyes every time Ol' Blood and Guts summons you to his office," Hogan replied with a trace of a smirk.

"Verdammte Kriegies," he grumbled under his breath, only to hear Hogan chuckling behind him.

A\N:

(1) Leutnant Bergman is an established canonical character referenced, but not seen, in "The Return of Bonacelli" and "A Russian is Coming". His first name is my own invention. He was first introduced in "Sometimes I Wish For the Russian Front".

(2) Before the bombing of Dresden, the citizens were warned of the impending bombing. The pamphlets read, "We know you are using Dresden which we have not bombed because it is a hospital area for the wounded but you are storing vital parts for airplanes and tanks and if you don't cease and desist, we will bomb you", per the memory of Jerry Lamb, a 19 year old POW at Dresden during the bombing.