Back to 1943
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Hogan's Heroes.
Author's Note: Bear with me. This is my first attempt at a story.
Chapter 1
The day was like any other day. I had gone to school at Kingsford and had tennis practice right after. Mom picked me up at 5:00 and we sat down to eat dinner. After such, homework was done and any other routine jobs completed before bed. I lay in bed for a while day dreaming about the episode of Hogan's Heroes I had just watched on TV at 8:00. As I drifted off to sleep, I never knew that my world was about to change in the most exciting and scary sense possible.
I woke up cold and to the noise of the chirping of crickets. Thinking that I had left my bedroom window open because the night had been a hot one even if it was the beginning of September, I tried to reach for my blanket to pull up on me. This is when all I felt was grass and dirt down at my feet. I opened my eyes in shock and found myself looking up at the stars. It took me a moment to realize that the stars I was looking at were not the plastic ones stuck to the ceiling in my room.
I did not start to panic because a thought occurred to me that possible since there is woods in the back of my house that perhaps my sister, Ashley, had somehow taken me outside and put me there as some practical joke. I did start to panic though when I realized that a) Ashley was too weak to carry me outside and b) I would have felt her if she had tried to drag me out there. My shock quickly grew into fear as I heard gun shots not too far off. I knew then for certain that I was not in back by my house because no one used guns back there.
My legs took off in the opposite direction before my mind registered what was happened. I came to a stop from exhaustion and the silence from all around me. I knew that I would start to hyperventilate if I had gotten the change, but it seemed just my luck that I saw a black silhouette move across my field of vision. Without meaning to, I let out a surprised gasp which caught the figures attention.
It turned towards me and was standing in front of me before I could make out what it was. As it stood before me, I could see clearly that it was a man dressed in old fashion clothes like I see on Hogan's Heroes with the trousers instead of jeans and a fedora. The man started asking me in a language I had no clue how to speak except for the few phrases I had learned from the old TV show. At a closer look to the man, there was no doubt in my mind as I looked at those gorgeous blue eyes and saw Richard Dawson, a.k.a. Peter Newkirk.