Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Hogan's Heroes, and no infringement is intended.
Max Schweitzer's Horribly Bad No Good Rotten Day
"Schweitzer! Get in here!"
Lieutenant Max Schweitzer leapt to his feet to answer his commander's call.
He dashed to the inner office to find Major Bergmann frantically shuffling through
maps, charts, lists, nearly every bit of information they'd collected
over the past five months.
"I can't find the bridge map!" Bergmann spit out as he tossed papers
to and fro. Fighting the surge of panic that had been threatening to consume
him all day, Max took a deep breath and began to methodically collect the papers
strewn about Bergmann's office.
"Here you go, Sir." Max gingerly handed the slightly rumpled maps
to the Major. "This map shows the locations and dates of the bridges destroyed
in the past six months. This one here shows all the bridges in the area
and their current status."
Bergmann tossed him a grateful look, which Max found more frightening than
reassuring. Max began to slowly creep from the room when he heard a mangled
cry and turned
to see the Major banging his head against the wall. "How could I forget?" Bergmann
cursed himself.
Usually able to anticipate the Major's wishes, Max simply could not fathom
what information Bergmann was trying to pound out of his skull. He tried not
to stare as a red splotch began to appear on the Major's forehead.
"Um, Sir, can I help you find something else?" Max stammered, hoping
his interruption would stop the Major's bashing. Today was not the day
to have to deal with a commander with a self-inflicted concussion.
"The eyewitness reports! We need to collate the eyewitness reports with
the official damage reports of the sabotaged factories." Bergmann looked
wildly about the room, as if the eyewitnesses themselves were about to appear. "Then
cross-reference those with the secret research facilities…" Bergmann
trailed off. "There's just no time," Bergmann pulled
a few patches of hair from his skull as he fell despondent into his
chair.
"Don't worry, Sir! We'll pull it together in time." Max
tried to sound as if he believed it, but the truth was, there really wasn't
enough time. They were in big trouble. "I'll put together the most
recent reports. That should give the General a good overview of what we're
dealing with."
Not really expecting a confirmation from the Major beyond the grunt
of approval he thought he heard, Max made his retreat to the front
office.
Momentarily
overwhelmed, Max stood lost behind the desk where he had spent so
many innumerable hours over
the past five months.
The piercing ring of the telephone snapped Max back to reality. "Kampfgruppe
Bergmann, Lieutenant Schweitzer speaking. Heil Hitler," he answered by
rote. The thunderous barking that followed forced Max to pull the phone away
from his ear. An impending visit from the Gestapo: another cherry to top off
this treat of a day.
"Yes Major Hochstetter. The prisoner is ready whenever you wish to come
for him. No, Major. He had no papers on him. He claimed he left them at home… Yes,
we did realize that was suspicious. That is why we proceeded to
detain him." Max
fought to refrain from rolling his eyes. They'd been through
all of this before. "Yes, he has dark hair. An American?
No, I don't think
so. He spoke German like a native. He said his name was Hans Bricker,
a local cobbler."
Barely listening to another bout of ranting, Max was stunned to
see a large staff car screech to a halt in front of the Kampfgruppe
Headquarters.
Distracted,
he
quickly ended the conversation, "We look forward to your arrival Herr Major." Squinting
intently out the window, Max didn't realize he'd already hung up
the phone as he muttered an obligatory "Heil Hitler."
Max's heart sank when he recognized the ominous black uniform of a Sicherheitsdienst
General. He scrambled to open the door for their guest, but only managed to
knock over his chair, scatter some papers, and stub his toe on the filing cabinet.
The SD General burst into the office, imperiously stomping towards
the poor befuddled Lieutenant, all the while waving a riding crop
smacking anything
within range.
Though not much taller than Max, the General seemed to tower over
him. The officer loomed in so close that a wicked-looking scar,
interrupted by a black
leather
eye patch, was all Max could see.
"General von Baer?" Max squeaked. He found himself wondering if their
headquarters was large enough to contain the presence of this
man.
"Who else would I be?" von Baer arched the eyebrow over his one good
eye.
"You… you're early, Herr General! We weren't expecting
you until… well,
um…when your aide called this morning, he said…"
"I am not early!" von Baer erupted, "I always arrive at the exact
moment I intend to arrive! Understood, Lieutenant?"
Max struggled to lower the pitch of his voice. "Absolutely Sir, completely
Sir, without a single doubt in my mind Sir! You are right on time, Sir!"
Stepping back and smacking the desk with his riding crop,
the General bellowed, "Enough
pleasantries! Gather the officers together!" Another slap, this time abusing
a small potted plant: "I wish to meet," slap "with them," slap "at
once!" Slap slap!
Max waited until the General grew weary of slapping the
unfortunate plant, and tactfully cleared his throat. "This way to the conference room, Herr General." Max
motioned across the hall.
Upon entering the large room the General stopped so abruptly,
Max had to execute a fancy little two-step to avoid colliding
into
him. The
General then proceeded
to turn to face the length of the room and ever so slowly
raise his arms out from his sides. What in Wodan's name was the General doing now? Max realized
his mouth was hanging open, and shut it with a click of his jaw.
"My coat!" huffed von Baer impatiently, not deigning to meet Max's
eyes.
Max mouthed an "Oh!" and quickly helped the General remove his coat. "Please
have a seat, General." Max tried his best to be gracious. "Major
Bergmann will be with you momentarily." Max ducked from the room, hung
the coat by his desk, and as soon as he was sure he was out of the General's
line of sight, took off on a mad dash for Major Bergmann's office.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Returning from his frantic run through the halls of their Kampfgruppe Headquarters, Max paused briefly to catch his breath. Then, nonchalantly strolling into the conference room, he was relieved to see the Kampfgruppe's officers sitting attentively, all trying desperately to not look the least bit nervous. Sliding into a seat next to a heavily perspiring Major Bergmann, Max caught a glimpse of who he assumed was the General's aide, a diminutive Captain a full head shorter than the General. Exchanging a few whispered words with von Baer, the Captain glared daggers across the room, then left, slamming the door behind him.
"Tell me, Major Bergmann," General von Baer's single-eyed stare
jolted Bergmann to sit up even straighter. "What exactly is your mission
here?" Max's
eyes followed the General's riding crop as it
bowed up, and then down, up and then down.
"Sir, we were to establish a task force to protect the factories, bridges
and important military sites from the region's unusually high concentration
of sabotage. Also, we were to root out and capture
the saboteurs and dismantle the underground network, Sir!" Max was surprised
to hear the Major supply such an articulate reply.
"And why, Major, do you think I have come all the way to this blackened
coal pit of a town?"
Max heard a loud gulp come from the Major. This was
the question to which they all feared the answer.
Five months ago Berlin had charged Major Bergmann
to set up this Kampfgruppe in Kohlenhausen, a small
gloomy
town
not too
far
from Hammelburg
and central to a hotbed of sabotage activity. Day
after day they followed a trail of
blown up factories and bridges and supposedly secret
military installations. But
no matter their preparation, they could never seem
to get a step ahead
of the saboteurs,
much less uncover the apparent mastermind behind
them all.
As the weeks began to pass, Major Bergmann became
convinced their lack of success would send him on
a return
trip to the Russian
Front. Constantly
reliving his
previous experience there, the Major slowly crumbled
into a nervous wreck, leaving most of the organizational
responsibilities
to
Max.
"I assumed to check on our progress, Sir."
"NO!" The General spun around and smacked Bergmann on his already much abused
forehead. Von Baer looked about the room making sure he had everyone's
complete attention, as if it were possible he didn't, then continued: "I
am sure you have all heard of the infamous Papa Bear,
yes?"
Max leaned in closer. Now this could be interesting!
Papa Bear was the rumored leader of the underground
whose exploits
had
reached near mythic
proportions.
Max would never admit it to anyone, but secretly
he dreamed of meeting
the mysterious leader. If even half the tales
were true, the man was a hero in
Max's eyes,
regardless of which side of the battle he fought.
"What if I were to tell you," the General opined, "that this
very minute," he raised his arms high, "in this very building," his
voice lowered to a growl, "the Papa
Bear hides," his fists slammed
down hard against the table causing them
all to jump, "in
plain sight!"
The room erupted to a cacophony of astonishment
and disbelief. Major Bergmann was first to
be heard over
the din. "You
mean the prisoner we captured last night? HE is the Papa
Bear?"
Bergmann's rare moment of fortitude shriveled under the General's
intense scrutiny. Von Baer then swept the room with his steely gaze. "I
have it on good authority that Papa Bear is here among you." His riding
crop shook with righteous indignation. "Perhaps it is one of you who are
traitor to the glorious Third Reich." Once again
the room descended into a clamor of murmurings and denials.
"Enough!" The General roared. "My men have surrounded the area,
and are conducting a thorough search. He
will be in our hands soon enough. My throat
is dry. Bring me coffee."
It was a moment before Max's brain registered the General's demand
for coffee. It took another moment to realize the General's eye was staring
directly at him. Max leapt for the door, but one of his tunic's buttons
caught on Major Bergmann's chair, ripping his pocket and slamming him back
into his seat. Fumbling to untangle himself, he sputtered, "Right away,
Sir!" and scampered from the room.
