Hogan and his men were returning from their latest escapade, blowing up a train depot. They were all in high spirits and were laughing and joking between them.
Carter stumbled just then, tripping on a tree root and falling into Newkirk.
"Blimey, Carter", Newkirk scoffed as he righted himself and Carter. "You're the clumsiest man in camp".
"Sorry", Carter mumbled sheepishly. "I didn't see the tree root".
"Didn't see it", Lebeau grunted gruffly as he pushed the younger man's hat down over his eyes. "You would have a hard time seeing the end of your nose. Maybe you should borrow Klink's monacle", he teased.
"Come on, guys", Hogan barked out softly. "Quiet down and get a move on before the krauts find us".
The men nodded and began heading towards stalag 13 again.
They made it there safely and climbed down into the tunnel and they were met by Kinch. "How'd it go?" Kinch asked curiously.
Newkirk tried to ward off the question but it was too late and soon, Carter was explaining in full detail, the explosion and the debris and the flash of light and the noise, until Hogan finally told him to quiet down.
Kinch chuckled and shook his head with amusement.
"I'm going up top to get a little shut eye", Hogan said with a grin.
Kinch nodded and then looked over the other three men. "Go on up", he ordered. "I'm going to shut down the radio and I'll be along soon".
They all nodded and Lebeau shot off a mock salute causing the bigger man to laugh and give him a small push towards the ladder.
Hogan lay in his bed for a long time, mulling over the night's activities and also thinking on past missions and all the craziness that had been the past year. "We're lucky", he mumbled to himself. "Schultz and Klink are just smart enough to keep out of things and just stupid enough to not really figure it out anyway. Makes this job a lot easier". He yawned deeply then and drifted off to sleep.
Early the next morning, Hogan was awakened by the sounds of yelling and things breaking. He rushed out in his pajamas and saw Schultz yanking Lebeau from his bunk and yelling at him to get dressed before stomping his way back outside.
Newkirk was already nursing a swelling eye and Carter was rubbing the back of his head.
"What the hell happened out here?" Hogan roared furiously, not liking to see his men mistreated.
"Just the usual morning wake up from good ol' sergeant Schultz", Newkirk muttered angrily.
"Quiet", Carter barked out authoritatively. "Do you want that goon to come back in here and rough us up again?" he added in quieter tones as he shot a tentative look at the door as he hurriedly scrambled into his uniform.
Newkirk snapped to attention and shook his head. "No, sergeant, Carter. I don't want that, sir".
"Good", Carter said in the same stern but quiet tone. "Then keep your yap shut unless you know the coast is clear".
Newkirk gave a quick nod and then slowly relaxed his stance.
Hogan's eyes were nearly popping out of his skull by now but they had to get out for roll call so any answers would have to wait. They filed outside and stood in formation, awaiting Klink's arrival.
Schultz began to count the men and Hogan half expected the guys to begin giving the large German guard a hard time over his treatment of them of just a few minutes before but not a word was said. The men stood ramrod stiff at attention and waited patiently for Schultz to finish. Hogan looked to his left and around Newkirk, expecting to see Lebeau shifting and squirming restlessly like he usually did but no, he was stiff and straight and staring ahead as if De Gaulle himself was inspecting him. Hogan could only shake his head in confusion.
Klink came out of his office, yelling for Schultz to report to him.
"All present and accounted for, herr comandant", Schultz said in a harsh, commanding tone that Hogan had never heard him use before.
Klink nodded sharply and then fixed a stern gaze on Hogan. "This camp is a sty", he snapped harshly. "Get it cleaned up or you forfeit your dinner tonight". Like with Schultz, Klink's tone of voice and mannerisms didn't match what Hogan knew them to be and he was suddenly very unsettled and even a little afraid of Klink. He slowly nodded his head. "Yes, sir", he mumbled uneasily. The hard smack to the back of his head shocked him and he whipped around to face Schultz but he froze when he saw the German sergeant holding a very loaded gun on him.
"Salute your superiors when you speak to them", Schultz snapped.
"We...we're both colonels", Hogan said in a faint and rather strained voice.
"HE is German", Schultz sneered. "That makes him superior despite your rank. NOW SALUTE HIM", Schultz finished in a roar.
Hogan whipped back around to face a smug and confident Klink and he snapped off his best salute. "Yes, sir", he said clearly. "We'll have the camp cleaned up as quickly as we can".
Klink nodded and then looked at Schultz. "Dismiss the men", he ordered and Schultz nodded. "Yes, sir", he barked out with perfect military form. He turned to Hogan and his men then. "Dismissed", he barked out. Then he turned and marched away. As he walked away, Hogan watched him and shook his head in disbelief. While THIS Schultz was still a very large man, a lot of it appeared to be muscle. Hogan suddenly realized that one of his men was missing. No, he said to himself. A few men are missing. "Where's Kinch?" he asked. "Where's Baker?"
"Kinch?" Lebeau said in confusion. "Baker?"
"Sergeant, Kinchloe", Hogan said slowly and patiently as though Lebeau were an idiot. "You know, tall, colored man with a mustache. Golden gloves champ and all".
"Ohhhh, that man", Newkirk cut in. " 'e's in 'is barracks, sir", he said, staring at Hogan a little worriedly. "See, right over there", he added, pointing across the camp to a barracks that was battered looking even in comparison to what he lived in. Hogan looked and his jaw dropped open. Barracks 8, the barracks that Newkirk was pointing to, was surrounded be a fence, keeping it separate from the other barracks. Hogan could see Kinch and the other colored men from barracks 2 there.
"Why are they there?" he asked angrily. "When were they moved out of our barracks?"
"Our barracks, sir?" Carter asked with concern. "They've never been in our barracks, sir. It's forbidden for coloreds to share a barracks with whites".
Hogan's eyes went round with shock as he stared at Carter.
"Perhaps we should get him back inside, sir", Lebeau said to Carter, seeking his permission, something else that shocked Hogan. Usually, Newkirk and Lebeau were giving Carter a hard time and teasing him but now, they were treating him with all the respect that came with his rank.
Carter nodded and gently touched Hogan's arm. "Sir, maybe you should come inside. The sunshine might be causing a problem for you".
Hogan nodded and quietly followed what was left of his men back into the barracks.
When they got back into the barracks, Lebeau and Newkirk sat at the table in the common room and Lebeau put his head down on the table and tried to sleep.
"Lebeau?" Hogan said, putting a gentle hand on the little Frenchman's shoulder. "Get in your bunk and catch a little shut eye".
Lebeau's gaze shot up and he shook his head frantically. "Oh, no, sir", he said quickly. "Laying or sitting on the bed during daylight hours is forbidden. I'll get the cooler for a month if they catch me at it".
Hogan gave Lebeau a confused look and then shrugged and walked over to the little pot bellied stove. He reached for the coffee pot, only to find that it wasn't there. "Where's the coffee pot?" he asked.
"Coffee pot, sir?" Newkirk said with a note of confusion in his voice. "We don't 'ave a coffee pot, sir"
"Oui, cooking or making coffee in the barracks is forbidden", Lebeau said, in a hushed tone.
Hogan looked at Lebeau as though he had grown a second head. "And I suppose our special coffee pot isn't around either?" he asked a little heatedly.
Lebeau shrank back from Hogan as if in fear and he shrugged helplessly. "I don't know what you are talking about, mon colonel", he said softly.
"The one that let's us listen in on Klink's office", Hogan hissed angrily.
All the men in barracks two were staring at him in shock by then. He glared at them and then stomped over to the bunk that Kinch and Lebeau shared. No, he said to himself. They should be sharing it but they weren't. He slapped his hand on the bunk frame and waited for the bottom bunk to raise up. When it didn't, he slapped it again.
"Ummm, sir?" Newkirk said in a voice that was nearly trembling with fear and nervousness.
"Why isn't this damn thing working?" Hogan roared as he slapped the bunk again.
Carter stepped up then and motioned Newkirk and Lebeau away and both corporals gladly faded into the background. "What do you expect it to do, sir?" Carter asked, worry evident on his face.
"I expect it to raise up so I can go into the damn tunnel", Hogan yelled.
"Tunnel?" Carter asked in confusion.
"Yes", Hogan practically screamed in frustration. "The tunnel where we have our radio and our German uniforms".
Just then, Olsen came inside and Hogan turned on him furiously. "What are you doing here?" he barked out. "You're supposed to be making contact with the underground".
"Me?" Olsen said, his eyebrows nearly leaping into his hairline.
"You're our outside man", Hogan snapped. "Who else would I send?"
"Outside man?" Olsen said, not understanding what Hogan meant.
Hogan threw up his hands in frustration and stormed from the barracks in time to see Oskar Schnitzer, the camp veterinarian, drive into camp. He pulled up near the dog pen and began switching the dogs out. Hogan strolled over and leaned casually against the truck. "Any news from town?" he asked quietly.
Schnitzer looked at Hogan and scowled. "Get your filthy, American uniform off of my truck before I set my dogs on you", he said with deadly sincerity. Hogan's jaw dropped and he quickly pulled away from the truck. "I...I...I'm sorry", he managed to stammer out.
Hogan started to step away but he was grabbed roughly and spun around. He found himself facing corporal Karl Langenscheidt, one of the nicest men in the German army. But now, he was grinning cruelly at Hogan. "You know you are not supposed to be near the dogs, don't you, colonel Hogan?" he asked in a silky, smooth voice.
Hogan nodded meekly. "Uh, yeah. I'm sorry. It won't happen again", he promised.
"See that it doesn't", Langenscheidt said in the same overly polite tone. With that, he raised his rifle up and slammed the butt of it into Hogan's stomach.
Hogan doubled over and then collapsed to the ground.
Almost instantly, Carter and Newkirk were at his side and were helping him up and getting him back to the barracks.
"I don't understand", Hogan grunted out. "Everything is wrong. What about our missions?" he asked the room in general.
"Missions, sir?" Olsen said. "What missions are you talking about?"
"Blowing up trains, rescuing downed flyers, sending information to London. You know, that type of stuff", Hogan said irritably.
"Ohhhhh", a quiet voice said from the back of the room. "I think I know what's going on".
All eyes turned to look upon private Pembroke. He was their newest man. He was perhaps nineteen and was from London.
"What's going on?" Carter asked.
Pembroke blushed slightly. "Well, sir. You see. When the colonel was in that accident three weeks ago and was unconscious all those days, I was reading from that comic book that me mum sent me when I was first sent 'ere". He held up the comic book and on the cover was the picture of a British soldier. Above that was written Captain Victorious. "I was reading it to the colonel to see if it would 'elp 'im recover quicker if somebody read to 'im".
"So, none of that was real?" Hogan asked, his heart sinking as reality slowly set in. "The missions, the radio, the underground?"
"No, sir", Pembroke said sadly. "It was all just a dream".