A/N: I don't own Hogan's Heroes and I don't get paid for this; it is truly a labor of love.
So what really happened when Carter and Klink drank the heavy water? Missing and expanded scenes from "Go Light on the Heavy Water", submitted for the 2016 Short Story Speedwriting Challenge.
Carter often thought it was funny how Stalag 13 was such a magnet for odd visitors. Their latest guest was a Heer captain by the name of Müller, whose trip to Berlin had been rudely interrupted by an Allied air raid. Naturally the guy decided to take refuge at the toughest POW camp in all of Germany, since at least there he would be safe from bombing. He showed up at camp in a small truck which had a barrel in the back that he insisted must be guarded at all times. Even though the barrel only contained water from Norway—or so he told Klink.
Observing the number of guards surrounding the truck, Colonel Hogan figured that the barrel contained anything BUT water, and he came up with a plan to get a sample of the stuff. So the next day, while Newkirk got into a noisy disagreement with the men guarding the rear of the truck, Carter snuck through the front of the truck to fill a canteen from the barrel.
Safely inside Barracks 2 a little later, Carter thought complacently that he'd done a pretty good job swiping some of that so-called water. But this wasn't the time to be patting himself on the back, this was the time to determine exactly what the heck the stuff was and why it was so important.
And it was sort of flattering to be regarded as the resident expert on unidentified fluids. Colonel Hogan, Scotty, and Newkirk all hovered expectantly over Carter as he poured some of the mysterious water into a glass. It was clear, colorless, and as Carter informed his audience, odorless as well. But without equipment to test it, that was all he could discover. Finally he concluded that only thing to be done was to drink it.
Somehow Carter wasn't surprised to see the other guys pass up the opportunity to taste the water for themselves. Even Scotty (who presumably would be concerned about what was in the stuff, since he was the camp medic and all) declined to make the attempt.
But just like always, whenever there was an unpleasant task to be done Carter was the one left holding the short straw. And this time was no different as Colonel Hogan promptly volunteered him for the job. Carter sighed, picked up the glass and stared at it for a moment, grimacing.
Finally he took a sip, his grimace fading to an expression of bewilderment, and he looked up at the Colonel. "It's water!"
There was an immediate chorus of disbelief from the other three, but at that moment the bunk that concealed the entrance to the tunnel flew up. Kinch's head appeared, and he announced that the sub was on the radio.
"Okay, Kinch," the Colonel said, and he followed him down into the tunnel. Newkirk, Scotty and Carter remained up top, still staring at the glass of water on the table.
And then...
Boy, the Colonel sure is curious about this water—but I think we should just let sleeping dogs lie.
Carter blinked. The medic's voice was as a clear as a bell, but Scotty's lips hadn't moved. "Come again?" said Carter.
Scotty shoved his cap to the back of his head. "What? I didn't say anything."
"Sorry," said Carter. That was weird, he thought. And then he heard Scotty's voice again.
I can't believe that Carter was crazy enough to drink that—and that I was crazy enough to let him. Good thing it was only water after all! Well, it's nice to be included in the Colonel's latest scheme, but maybe I should just stick to the infirmary next time.
Carter opened his mouth to speak again, but Scotty was already on his way out of the barracks.
That was really weird, Carter thought. Then he heard another voice.
Blimey! Who knew that Andrew would actually drink that stuff? Not me anyway. I would have tricked old Schultzie into swigging it, and Bob's your uncle, we'd have had the answer.
Carter's gaze snapped from the barracks doorway to Newkirk who was lounging against the wall with cigarette in hand, leisurely blowing a smoke ring. The Englishman took another drag on his cigarette even as Carter heard his voice again.
Not that it would've helped. We could look at this water till the cows come home, but we'd still be none the wiser. Reckon the geezer from the sub might have the answer, though—I wonder what he's got to say to the Colonel right now.
Carter was beginning to feel very anxious now. What was happening to him, and why? Normally he had no qualms about telling the other POWs about things that worried him—but hearing voices? The guys would think he was nuts! He took a few deep breaths and tried to ignore the unaccustomed noise filling his head. Maybe it would stop on its own...
A few minutes later Colonel Hogan and Kinch emerged from the tunnel with very serious looks on their faces. "Bad news, men," the Colonel said. "That's no ordinary water in that barrel—it's heavy water for nuclear experiments."
Carter almost fell over. And he had drunk some of that stuff! Poisoned himself, that's what he'd done—no wonder he was hearing voices!
Any untoward effects Carter might have suffered didn't seem to occur to the Colonel, as he was concerned with something much more serious. "You realize what the intent of these nuclear experiments is, don't you?"
The assembled men looked at each other with alarm.
"An atomic bomb," Carter whispered, his own plight eclipsed by this new horror.
"Yes," said the Colonel. "And I've got to figure out a way to get our hands on that water so we can destroy it." The words were somber enough, but after a moment a thoughtful smile appeared on his face.
Maybe I'll pull another con with Klink and get him to steal the water for himself. Convince him somehow that the water in the barrel is magic or something—ha, I've got it! I'll tell him it's a cure for baldness and he'll fold like a cheap camera.
Carter wanted to clap his hands over his ears but he knew it wouldn't do any good. These voices he was hearing—it was like he could read people's minds! And now the Colonel wanted to trick Klink into getting hold of that water. What if Klink drank it—would he be able to read the POWs' minds then? They'd all get shot as spies!
Even as Carter fretted over this new development, Colonel Hogan went into his quarters and shut the door. Carter got to his feet, feeling a little shaky but otherwise okay after his exposure to the heavy water. Except for the little matter of those pesky voices in his head competing for his attention.
He tried to tune them out by turning to LeBeau, who was standing by the stove and stirring a pot of something or other with intense concentration. Apparently the little Frenchman was content to let Colonel Hogan deal with the heavy water situation without any input from him, since LeBeau had to get a meal on the table, after all. He lifted his spoon, blew on its contents and gingerly took a taste.
Kinch aime le ragoût épicé, les autres aiment le ragoût insipide. Eh bien—je vais couper la poire en deux!
Poor Carter could only be grateful that LeBeau's thoughts were in French. Somehow those were easier to ignore than the voices in his own language. But maybe he was getting the hang of it now—it seemed that if he didn't pay close attention to any one person, the voices faded to a sort of muted background noise.
He decided to test his new theory and turned to Newkirk, focusing on him. Sure enough, the Englishman's voice came through loud and clear.
Nuclear experiments! And we know just who Jerry will choose as the first victim for his bloody bomb—jolly old England! Blimey, I'm losing the plot.
Carter wished he could comfort his teammate, but since he had no reassurance to offer and Newkirk hadn't actually voiced his concern out loud, Carter decided to keep quiet. There was enough to worry about with the Colonel's latest scheme involving Klink.
An hour later...
As Hogan left his office, Colonel Klink rubbed his hands together gleefully. So THAT was the secret of the water from Norway—it was water renowned for its rejuvenating properties, once utilized by King Louis XVI himself! The Kommandant couldn't wait to get his hands on some of it. Oh, to have a full head of hair again...
Rooting around in his desk drawer, he triumphantly pulled out a collapsible cup and slipped it into a pocket. Next he pulled on his overcoat, clapped his cap onto his head and strode out of the office, riding crop tucked neatly under his arm. Moments later Klink clattered down the steps of the Kommandantur and approached the truck containing the barrel with the precious fluid.
The Sergeant guarding the truck was easily persuaded to allow the Kommandant to check the barrel inside. "Ja, Herr Oberst!" he said, obligingly assisting Klink to hop into the back of the truck, and the Kommandant disappeared behind the canvas flaps.
By himself in the darkness, Klink managed to lift the lid of the barrel and dip his cup into the water. He had no sooner taken a drink when the Sergeant's voice was heard from outside.
"Colonel Klink? Is everything secure?"
"Everything secure," Klink replied, snapping the collapsible cup closed. He pushed the canvas aside to emerge from the back of the truck and the Sergeant assisted him to alight. Klink turned to him with a patronizing smile. "You are doing an excellent job, Sergeant!"
The Sergeant saluted. "Thank you, Colonel."
Trottel.
The Kommandant blinked. What did that Sergeant just say? He gazed keenly at the man, but decided that the Sergeant hadn't said anything after all. No German soldier would use that kind of language to a superior officer!
With his mission accomplished, Klink decided to head back to his office to catch up on some correspondence.
As it turned out, Carter's fears regarding Klink's possible mind-reading ability were unfounded. Certainly the Kommandant heard murmurings as he walked back to the Kommandantur, but he happily concluded that his sense of hearing had been heightened by his imbibing of the rejuvenating water. And when Helga was called into his office to take dictation, she was concentrating so much on convincing him that she detected signs of youthfulness, no revealing thoughts of hers were heard by Klink.
The same held true when Hogan visited later. Long ago Hogan had learned that in order to con someone, he had to believe whatever he was telling the mark. At least, he had to believe it while the con was in progress. Thus his air of sincerity actually had some basis in fact when he assured Klink that he was growing hair, and no incriminating thoughts leaked through. Although the Kommandant was so gratified that the water was apparently taking effect, it is doubtful he would have paid any attention to anything but what Hogan was telling him anyway.
That evening as Klink was strolling the compound, the fact that he could overhear the thoughts of a couple of POWs standing nearby didn't concern him at all, as he believed they were actually audible conversations that he could now discern with his new and improved sense of hearing. Luckily those thoughts were fairly innocent on this occasion.
Weather in this part of Germany sure is strange. Lots of sunshine and it hardly ever snows, but there's always snow on the ground anyway. Only rained once that I recall, but that time it was raining cats and dogs!
Doggone it, it's not my fault that I had to tell Garlotti that he drew KP duty again. Gee whiz, don't shoot the messenger—I'm just one of the guys in the back row.
A few moments later Klink lifted his head as he neared Barracks 2—there was Colonel Hogan coming out of the doorway and apparently talking to himself.
We've been between the devil and the deep blue sea before. I know we'll succeed this time too.
Klink shook his head pityingly. These Allies were quite pathetic—always with that eternal optimism in the face of overwhelming odds! But he dismissed the overheard conversations; having such acute hearing was proving to be a bit of a nuisance. He could live with that side effect, though, as long as he managed to cure his baldness. His next move was clear—he must get his hands on that barrel of water!
Late that night Schultz was guarding the truck all by himself, and, as was his custom, dozing while on duty. Colonel Klink approached him with a loud "Ah, good evening, Sergeant!" and poor Schultz jumped, his eyes snapping open.
Ich glaube mich knutscht ein Elch!
Klink said irritably, "What are you babbling about? What do moose have to do with anything?"
"But-but-but...I said nothing, Herr Kommandant!"
"Never mind!" said Klink. "I want you to give me a hand with this barrel."
At first the rotund Sergeant was averse to the idea of stealing the water barrel from the truck and switching it with another, but the Kommandant's wheedling—and promise of a promotion to Oberfeldwebel—had its effect. Once in the back of the truck, Klink snapped open his collapsible cup and offered Schultz a drink, assuring him of the rejuvenating powers of the water.
Schultz obediently took a drink and smacked his lips. "Ach, wunderbar!"
But the little celebration was cut short by Captain Müller's voice just outside the truck. "Sergeant Schultz?"
Alarmed at being caught in the act, Klink and Schultz lost no time in exiting the truck. As they emerged, the Captain eyed them sternly and wanted to know just what they had been doing.
"Ah," said Klink, "I was just checking up on our valuable cargo!" He hurriedly dismissed Schultz, and the Sergeant scurried off, happy to escape the awkward scene. Then Klink turned to the Captain with a nervous smile. To cover his discomfiture, he was unwise enough to reveal to Captain Müller how he had found out about the true nature of the water. But to his dismay, Müller had some shattering news in return.
"Colonel Klink, somebody is making a fool of you! This water is being used for nuclear experiments—it is known as heavy water!"
Klink clutched his throat. "I drank some of that water! Will I die?"
The Captain growled, "Only if Berlin finds out!" He turned on his heel and stalked off.
Der Kommandant ist ein Idiot! Ach, der Fisch stinkt vom Kopf her.
Müller's parting shot was certainly rude, but Klink was too terrified of possible repercussions from Berlin—and too relieved that he wasn't going to die!—to reprimand the Captain for his highly insubordinate comments. He hurried off to his quarters to try and get some sleep.
The next morning Carter woke up, stretched, and was pleasantly surprised to realize that the only thoughts in his head were his own. The effects of the heavy water had finally worn off! Although that mind-reading stuff sure would have come in handy during the next poker game...
Likewise the Kommandant woke up to find that his supposed super-hearing wasn't so super after all. He sighed and decided he had just been fooling himself, believing Colonel Hogan's tale of rejuvenating water when it was something entirely different.
But Sergeant Schultz was still under the influence (having tasted the water only a few hours before) and he was alarmed to realize at roll call that voices were bombarding him from all sides. For a man whose only ambition was to know nothing, it was ironic and very frightening that he now knew far too much.
By mid-morning Schultz was aware that a wild plot was afoot, and he had a premonition of disaster when he spotted Colonel Hogan standing outside Barracks 2, watching two of his men playing catch.
The Colonel didn't say a word, but poor Schultz could hear him anyway.
Now we're cooking with gas!
Almost immediately there was enormous confusion involving smoke billowing from the Kommandant's office and people rushing hither and thither, and the Kommandant getting drenched with water...
Schultz was guiltily aware that if he had communicated his new-found knowledge of the POWs' thoughts, he might have staved off the fiasco. But he had to admit that the sight of a dripping wet Kommandant falling from his office window was an enjoyable one. Those unwanted voices were fading anyway, and Schultz was relieved. No sense in telling Colonel Klink or anyone else about his strange and scary experience—that sort of thing always caused trouble for Schultz.
And to add insult to injury, nobody would have believed me anyway!
The Idiom Challenge List:
Let sleeping dogs lie
Bob's your uncle
Till the cows come home
Fold like a cheap camera
Couper la poire en deux
Losing the plot
Raining cats and dogs
Don't shoot the messenger
Between the devil and the deep blue sea
Ich glaub mich knutchst ein Elch
Der Fisch stinkt vom Kopf her
Cooking with gas
Add insult to injury
Translations:
Kinch aime le ragoût épicé, les autres aiment le ragoût insipide. Eh bien—je vais couper la poire en deux!: Kinch likes the stew spicy, the others like the stew bland. Ah well—I will cut the pear in two!
Trottel: moron
Ich glaube mich knutscht ein Elch!: I think I was kissed by a moose!
Der Kommandant ist ein Idiot! Ach, der Fisch stinkt vom Kopf her.: The Kommandant is an idiot! Well, the fish starts stinking at the head.