A/N: This was a short story which popped into my head while watching The Reluctant Target. This is my first attempt at comedy. Hope you like it. I do not own any part of Hogan's Heroes or it's characters. But I do own the DVD set and enjoy watching them.

Carter's Alternate Universe

Chapter 1

An excited grin appeared on Andrew Carter's face as he set the timer on the explosives he, Kinch, and Newkirk had planted under the bridge London had ordered them to blow up. According to their orders, this bridge was used by the Germans to transport ammunition, weapons and other things to their troops at the front, and London wanted it destroyed. So, Colonel Robert Hogan, Senior POW officer, and head of the Hammelburg branch of the underground, code name Papa Bear, had issued the orders to Kinch, Carter and Newkirk to go out after evening roll call, set the charges and timers, and return to camp. It was a simple enough mission. After all, Hogan had told them with a grin, what could possibly go wrong?

As he set the last of his timers, Carter heard a rustling sound in the bushes behind him. Picking up his pistol from the ground and gripping it tightly, Carter looked around, expecting any minute to see a German patrol appear with weapons pointed his way. Instead, he relaxed when he saw it was Newkirk and Kinch.

"Carter, hurry up will you," said Newkirk in a low voice. "Me and Kinch saw a Kraut patrol headin' this way.

"All done," Carter explained getting to his feet. He followed the others as they, keeping low, silently made their way back in the direction of Stalag 13. They heard the sounds of the patrol heading in the opposite direction and felt they could get away without being detected. But everybody knows the best laid plans….

Looking over his shoulder while keeping up with the others, Carter suddenly tripped and fell, his pistol going off. That was when the excited voices of the patrol was heard, and they were coming towards them!

Helping Carter to his feet, Newkirk mumbled something unintelligible as the three men started running, firing at the patrol who, even though they couldn't see them, could hear them. Shots were fired in their direction as well. Suddenly Carter cried out as a bullet tore into the back of his shoulder. He stumbled and fell, striking his head on the hard ground.

Carter moaned as he struggled to open his eyes. His head and shoulder both hurt a lot. He felt someone sit down beside him.

"LeBeau? Can you hear me?" a voice asked.

"Uhhhhhh…." the young Sergeant moaned as he touched his forehead and felt the bandage on the side of his forehead. His shoulder felt as if it were on fire.

"LeBeau, can you hear me?" the voice repeated. "Can you at least open your eyes and look at me?"

"Yes, sir," Carter moaned. Though his vision was a bit fuzzy, he faintly made out a man next to him wearing a brown leather bomber jacket and an American officer's cap. Thank God, Carter thought, Colonel Hogan is here. "Hi, Colonel…" he said with closed eyes.

"LeBeau, thank God you're okay."

Wait a minute, Carter told himself suddenly. That voice. That's not the Colonel's. Is it? And why is he calling me LeBeau? It was then that Carter realized his own voice had a French accent. Shaking his head with closed eyes Carter slowly slid himself with help into a sitting position. He pinched the bridge of his nose hoping to clear all the cobwebs. Apparently Newkirk and Kinch had somehow got him back to camp and they had escaped from that Kraut patrol. Opening his eyes, Carter faced his commanding officer, and immediately his jaw dropped.

Seated beside him on the bed with his crush cap worn slightly tilted to the side and his brown leather bomber jacket, unzipped was… Colonel Wilhelm Klink?

"Colonel Klink? What are you doing wearing Colonel Hogan's cap and jacket?"

Klink studied the young sergeant. "LeBeau, don't you recognize me? I'm Colonel Hogan."

"You're Colonel Hogan?" Carter asked suspiciously. "Okay. If you're Colonel Hogan then where's Kommandant Klink? Where's Kinch and Newkirk?"

"The Kommandant was still in his office last I checked. Kinch and Newkirk got you back here after the three of you blew that bridge. But you were wounded when you didn't get far enough away when the bridge blew. You injured your shoulder and hit your head when you fell. But Sergeant Wilson took care of everything and says you should be fine in a few days."

"Hey, mate, glad to to see you awake. You had us ruddy scared you did."

Carter looked around expecting to see the Englander Peter Newkirk. Instead, he saw James Kinchloe standing nearby looking at him with a grin. "How are you, mate?" Looking at Kinch's arm, Carter saw the Chevron insignia of a RAF Corporal.

"Kinch? How come you're speaking English? I mean British? And how come you're a corporal? You're a sergeant."

Kinch/Newkirk looked at Hogan/Klink. "Gov'nor, I think me mate LeBeau's gone bloody crackers. Louie, you know ruddy well I'm a corporal same as you."

"What d'ya mean same as me? I'm Tech Sergeant Andrew Carter. You're Staff Sergeant James Kinchloe, and…" Carter looked over at Klink/Hogan. "You're Colonel Wilhelm Klink, Kommandant of Stalag 13."

Hogan/Klink and Kinch/Newkirk exchanged concerned looks. They figured LeBeau must have struck his head harder than they thought.

"Well, well, well. Looks who's awake," another familiar voice said. Looking in the direction of the voice Carter recognized his best friend Corporal Peter Newkirk. Except, this Newkirk was wearing the insignia of a Staff Sergeant, and he was speaking perfect American English.

"Newkirk! Boy, am I glad to see you, buddy! What's going on 'round here. Nobody's whom they're suppose to be. How could you be a Sergeant? You're a Corporal with the RAF."

Newkirk/Kinch looked at the other two. "What are you talkin' about, LeBeau? I'm Sergeant James Kinchloe. You sure you're all right, buddy?"

Carter suddenly felt like he was going to scream. This must be some kind of nightmare he was caught up in. Or perhaps the Krauts had him and were experimenting on him. That must be it. Whatever it was, Carter thought he'd play along for now.

"I have a bit of a headache and my shoulder hurts a bit. But I'm alive thanks to you and Newkirk."

"LeBeau! You're awake! Boy are we glad you're awake. The Colonel's sure been worried about you. How are you? Are you okay? I mean do your feel okay? I've been so worried. Are you sure you're okay?" said another slightly familiar voice. Carter was afraid to see who it was or wasn't. But nonetheless he did look. He saw a short man with a beret and matching scarf wrapped around his neck, hurrying toward them. He figured this must be LeBeau, or with this group, Carter.

"Oui," Carter replied. He suddenly made a face. Did he just speak French? "C'est un miracle." (1) he added.

LeBeau/Carter looked at him strangely. "What did you just say?" he appeared confused.

Carter closed his eyes momentarily. "I have no idea," he replied.

Just then the door to barracks two opened and a handsome man with black hair and a monocle, wearing a Luftwaffe outer coat and military cap, and holding a riding crop tucked under his arm strolled in followed by the obese figure of Sergeant Hans Schultz.. For the second time in an hour, Carter's jaw dropped. "Colonel Hogan? Why are you dressed like Kommandant Klink? And you're wearing a monocle."

Hogan/Klink looked down at Carter for a long moment. Then, he turned his expression to Klink/Hogan. "Glad to see you awake, Corporal LeBeau," he said. "I'd hate to think you wouldn't be able to cook dinner for General Burkhalter and myself day after tomorrow."

Carters eyes widened in shock. "Me? Cook? But Colonel, I don't know anything about cooking. I mean, I'm good at blowing things up and all. But cooking?"

Hogan/Klink stared at Carter, concerned. He thought Carter was talking about cooking. "Blow things up? Corporal, I want no funny business with this dinner. If things go well, I could get my General's stripes. If there's any problems whatsoever, everybody will get thirty days in the cooler. Is that understood?"

Carter, panicked, looked at Klink/Hogan. "Colonel…say something. Do something. I don't know anything about cooking. I really don't."

Klink/Hogan turned from Carter to Hogan/Klink. "Colonel Hogan, I don't know what kind of game, Corporal LeBeau is playing, but I promise you and your men will all spend thirty days in the cooler if anything goes wrong. Do you understand me?"

"Don't worry, Kommandant. LeBeau will cook a delicious French meal for you. He hit his head earlier and has been a little shaky since waking up. I promise you tomorrow he should be back to his old self. You have my word."

"See that he is, Hogan!" Klink/Hogan said with seriousness. "See that he is." He turned abruptly and stormed out of the barracks with Schultz close behind him. Klink/Hogan sighed and looked at Carter, concerned.

"LeBeau, what's wrong with you? You're acting mighty strange since hitting your head. You know you're suppose to cook a delicious meal for Klink, Burkhalter, and Burkhalter's guest who's bringing some documents that we need to photograph regarding a German offensive, and pass onto London."

"But…but…I swear to you, Colonel. I know nothing about cooking. I could burn water. You'd have better luck if I blew something up instead."

"LeBeau, you know making the explosives is Carter's job, not yours. You are our chef. Now I promised Klink you would do this. No meal, no documents. You have to do this."

Carter stared at Klink/Hogan in a panic. This was definitely the worse nightmare he'd ever had. At least he hoped it was only a nightmare.

((1) "C'est un miracle!" means "It's a miracle!"