Disclaimer: I don't own any Hogan Heroes characters.

Being myself

"I'm an invisible man," Klink whispered to no one but himself. There was nobody he could have shared his thoughts with. Kommandant Klink was alone in his office lost in his own thoughts. He was standing at the window looking outside. On the compound a football game was in full play.

I'm nobody. I could disappear into thin air and no one would miss me one little bit.

The Oberst stared at the happily engaged prisoners of Stalag 13 without really seeing them.

Escape proof camp. Berlin constantly overlooks all the work I'm doing here. I'm invisible. I'm not even here. Haselmeier from Stalag 7 got promoted to general not three weeks ago. And what about me? I'm being ignored, as usual. And from his camp they fly away like pigeons. There has never been a single successful escape from Stalag 13, not one. But do the high gentlemen in Berlin appreciate that. No!

Klink grimaced. He looked tired and his fretfulness brought forth more ugly lines on his face. He looked old.

Funny. Shouldn't I be used to all that? Not that it has ever been any different all my life. I'm just an unimportant fool nobody needs. I could end it right here. And I would too, but who am I kidding. I'm not even man enough to kill myself. No, no, no, stop it right there. I mustn't even think about something like that.

The Kommandant took a few deep breaths to banish the nasty thoughts. His expression lightened when another idea formed in his mind.

I could buy me a dog. He could be my loyal companion. That would be nice. He would stay by my side all day and never once criticise a thing I do or say.

Klink's face fell.

As I see this, that cur would just decide that it loves any prisoner better than me. Of course, how could it be any different? I couldn't even get a dog to respect me enough to stay by my side.

Kommandant Klink was still staring at the compound when his gaze met Colonel Hogan and lingered there. The Oberst observed the way Hogan was standing there watching the game. The American Colonel was leaning nonchalantly against the wall belonging to Barracks 2. He had a slight smile on his face as if he was up to something.

Klink grimaced once more. He had not thought it possible but his mood became even worse.

How confident Hogan appears. He never has any trouble to make his men show him proper respect. They respect him for what he is. Not just his rank, his personality. He makes it look so easy. Why can't I do that? The men under my command only show me the respect military courtesy requires because I can send them to the Russian front if they don't. Not much of an alternative.

Colonel Hogan is the born leader. There are just some things that can't be taught. Either you got it or you don't. And I quite clearly don't. I'm a failure all the way. I only became a soldier because I failed in every other aptitude test there was: law, medicine, even administration. I'm not even a good soldier. Now I'm nothing more than a jail keeper. How low can one sink?

Someone knocking at the door interrupted his train of thoughts. Not that they had been important anyway. Nobody cared. Not even Klink did.

"What is it?" he asked impatiently when he noticed Schultz standing in the door frame.

"Gestapo," Schultz gasped, "they just drove into camp."

Without hesitation Klink ordered to confine the prisoners to barracks immediately until further notice. An unexpected visit by the Gestapo never was a good sign. Come to think about it, no visit by the Gestapo ever was. Anyway, Kommandant Klink had a bad feeling about this. Today seemed like a perfect day for catastrophe, either for him or, well Colonel Hogan was a possible candidate, too. As far as in his power, Klink wanted to prevent all catastrophes of any kind.

A visit by the Gestapo simply never was a good thing. Never.

When Klink discovered that Schultz was still standing in the door, he yelled at him: "What are you waiting for? Prisoners into the barracks! Schnell! I will welcome the..," he paused as he tried to think of some kind of fitting word, "...our guests."

The Kommandant returned to his position at the window and observed Schultz breaking up the game, the prisoners obviously complaining about it, Schultz trying to shoo the prisoners into the barracks, eventually Colonel Hogan taking over command and the prisoners finally following him like a flock of sheep follows its good shepherd.

Then Klink saw the Gestapo car drive up to the Kommandantur. He sighed. It was high time to put on his best half innocent half obedient smile and go welcome the guests. At least the prisoners were out of sight.

Oberst Klink stepped outside and remained standing on the porch. He wanted to stay in at least a physically higher position for just a moment longer. Then he would happily greet the people he despised so much as if they were his dearest friends he had not seen in years.

The Kommandant watched two Gestapo men drag a man in RAF uniform out of the car. The soldier was handcuffed and didn't offer any resistance. Yet he was grabbed unfeelingly at both arms and forced to walk between the Gestapo men exactly as fast or slowly as they wanted him to. This seemed to be a game to them.

Just in time Klink realized he had to greet a Gestapo Hauptmann who had walked up to him and was standing directly in front of him now.

"Welcome to Stalag 13. I'm Kommandant Klink," he offered and made it sound as cheerful as he could.

"Ja, right," the Gestapo Hauptmann answered, obviously bored.

Klink was used to this kind of treatment and therefore ignored it. He tried to keep a straight face as well as a head on his shoulders.

"Shall we go inside," Klink pointed in direction of the Kommandantur, "to my office?"

The Hauptmann didn't take notice, instead he on his part pointed to the RAF soldier and said as if it was the most normal thing in the world: "We have no use for him any longer. We dispose of him and leave." With that said the Gestapo man turned around and walked back to the car.

The two men dragging the prisoner along had meanwhile placed him in front of Klink, put a key to the handcuffs in the Kommandant's hand and also without further words turned around and left.

Klink motioned for the Gefreiter1 who was standing guard on the Kommandantur's porch to bring the new prisoner to his office. The Oberst followed behind.

Only when Klink had sat down behind his desk did he notice the RAF soldier's shattering appearance. The Flight Sergeant had a vacant expression on his face. He was staring right ahead into nothing. His eyes looked frighteningly empty, as if all of life's energy had been drained from them. The soldier stood there like frozen. He seemed to have withdrawn into himself completely and didn't concern about the outside world anymore.

Klink had openly stared at the Englishman's face for a while. The horror or rather the lack of it shown in his expression was almost hypnotizing. Eventually, however, Kommandant Klink looked further down on the man and noticed that his uniform was torn. But even worse were the bloodstains on it, giving evidence of nightmares come true.

God alone knows what injuries are hidden underneath his clothes. Klink shuddered.

It took the Oberst another few seconds to overcome his hesitations. He handed the key to the Luftwaffe soldier, so he could free the Flight Sergeant from the handcuffs. Then Klink dismissed the Gefreiter and took a deep breath.

The Kommandant had remembered his own duties and procedure that had to be followed. Pflicht ist Pflicht.2 That left no room for discussion or granting wishes; whether anyone liked it or not. Klink began with the obligatory interrogation.

"Your name, soldier?"

No answer.

"Serial number?"

Silence.

Klink got up and slowly circled the desk.

"Which regiment were you with?"

Nothing.

The Kommandant took a few more steps towards the Flight Sergeant.

"What was your last mission before you were shot down?"

Then Klink got a reaction he didn't expect. He was still met with silence, but the Englishman had started to tremble. Slightly at first, but when the Oberst had reached him and stood directly beside him the man was practically shaking with terror.

Klink was so surprised that he backed off immediately.

That's not how it is supposed to be.

The Kommandant had not expected to gain any world changing new information. These interrogations seemed pointless most of the time, especially after a stay with the Gestapo. Either the RAF soldier had told them everything he had ever known already or he never would.

Klink just asked these questions because he was obligated to, not because he believed they had a deeper purpose. He had always wanted to stick to his duties, however, no matter what. They kept him going and his world in order. In this life his duties as a soldier were the only things that were still predictable and reliable. And like all the men who were raised to believe that rules had to be obeyed at any cost, he had the both acquitted and unconscious fear that all hell would break loose once the rules were abandoned. It really didn't matter how ridiculous they seemed.

Nevertheless had Klink stopped asking questions and retreated to his desk. He had not much time, however, to decide what to do next because the door to his office flew open.

Colonel Hogan waltzed in without bothering to knock, much less waiting for permission to enter.

"Why didn't you call for me, Kommandant?" Hogan complained, "according to the Geneva Convention I have the right to be present when you interrogate an Allied prisoner. Now, don't tell me that's not what you're doing."

Klink inhaled sharply and blurted out: "What are you doing here? You were confined to barracks!"

Oberst Klink's anger disappeared as quickly as it appeared when he remembered the RAF soldier. At first glance the Flight Sergeant stood there exactly as before, still slightly trembling. But Klink noticed a detail about him that certainly had changed. Wide-eyed fear was now apparent in the prisoner's face.

Never had it occurred to Klink that anyone would actually be scared of him. That moment the Kommandant was engaged in his own memory flash that took him back to his childhood.

When Klink was a young boy he found an injured blue tit. The little bird had obviously been attacked by a cat, its leg was damaged and at least one of its wings. He remembered how helpless the little creature was when it desperately tried to hop away, not being able to fly or run. Klink never had forgotten how badly he wanted to help the little bird and how glad he was at first that the blue tit had enough fight left to bite him, repeatedly. Still, eventually the bird's condition turned out to be hopeless and all he could do was to put it underneath a bush and leave it there to die. It seemed a long time ago, when Klink had been little boy, but he could never forget how it broke his heart that he wasn't able to save the little bird.

Well, today was a different day. Today Klink was a grown up man, a high ranking officer and he was the man in charge in this camp after all. He had the power to do what he thought was the right thing. He only had to make up his mind to do it.

Kommandant Klink stepped up to Colonel Hogan and calmly told him in a low voice: "This man isn't doing very well. He's not fit for interrogation right now. I refrain from any further questioning."

Hogan looked at Klink, then to the RAF soldier and back again to Klink. The American Colonel was surprised to hear such determination in Klink's voice and listened quietly as Klink went on.

"He is assigned to Barracks 2. I trust you and your men will take good care of him there."

The two officers exchanged a look in silence. There was no need to put up a fight and start an argument. Colonel Hogan could just take the offer and the new prisoner to Barracks 2.

"There is one more thing before you go, Colonel Hogan," Klink said so softly that the Flight Sergeant wouldn't hear it, "I still don't know his name and serial number and as you sure know I need this information for the record. I really want to avoid having to force him to have us have a look at his dog tags. Violence is not my preferred approach to this."

Both Kommandant Klink and Colonel Hogan looked over to the Flight Sergeant who was staring into space.

"So, as soon as he volunteers this information I'd appreciate it if you came by and shared it with me."

"I will. And thank you, Kommandant," Hogan answered.

Klink watched Hogan slowly approach the troubled Englishman and speaking softly to him before he eventually took him gently by one arm and led him outside.

At the door Colonel Hogan turned around and gave the Klink a respectful nod. "I appreciate it, Kommandant," Hogan said earnestly.

Oberst Klink returned to his place at the window and watched the two Allied prisoners walk to Barracks 2.

He came to realize that it wasn't complicated at all, everything was very simple actually. The answer to his problem lay plainly before him.

It doesn't really matter how people see me or don't see me. No, it doesn't matter at all. If I'm to be an invisible man, I don't care anymore. I'm still being myself. That's something, especially in this corrupted system. I will continue to grin and bear it with the Gestapo and General Burkhalter and all the other important people. But have I ever wanted to be like them? Just to be somebody? This Gestapo Hauptmann who came into camp today for instance. If I were like him, then everybody would fear me and hate me. No, I think I'm rather nobody than somebody like that.

1 Gefreiter is a private

2 Duty is duty