I do not own any of the characters from the series Hogan's Heroes. However, I claim ownership of any original characters appearing in this story.
Any day on which the Gestapo drove into Stalag 13 was likely to be a bad day for the prisoners.
"Hochstetter, coming down like the wolf on the fold," observed Newkirk, watching from the barracks window as the car skidded to a halt in front of the office.
Colonel Hogan came to join him. "Hochstetter - and General Burkhalter. Don't you just hate uninvited guests? I wonder what's brought those two here."
"Actually, Colonel, I'd be more interested in how they drove here in the same car and both arrived still breathing," said Newkirk. "They've not exactly been chummy these past couple of weeks."
"Maybe the other guy acted as peacekeeper," suggested Carter, peering over Newkirk's shoulder at the third, unknown visitor; taller and older than Hochstetter, and wearing a plain black overcoat and undistinguished hat.
"Him? Do me a favour! If he's not Gestapo, I'll eat me wellies. Which would make a nice change from camp rations, anyway."
"They're going into Klink's office." Hogan closed the window shutter. "I don't like it. We'd better listen in."
He headed for his quarters, with three of his men at his heels. Kinch was down below in the tunnel, awaiting an expected radio message, but Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau took their places around the desk. On its plain unvarnished surface stood a common and rather cheap coffee pot, which contained a very uncommon secret: the hidden receiver for the bug which allowed the prisoners to listen in on any conversations taking place in the Kommandant's office.
The first sound to come out of the speaker was the soft high-pitched whistle which had become all too familiar in recent weeks. Experience had taught them that no adjustment to the receiver or the speaker would dispel this particular noise.
"It's getting worse," remarked LeBeau. "Klink's sinuses must be in a terrible state."
"That's not sinuses. That's the Schnaps. The longer the war goes on, the more he drinks over lunch," replied Hogan. "And the more he drinks, the longer he sleeps in the afternoon, and the worse he snores."
Carter's brow wrinkled. "You know, I had an uncle once who used to snore like that. Sounded like the twelve-thirty express to Crabapple Junction. It was so bad, my aunt was just about ready to walk out on him, but… "
"Hold it," said Hogan, as the voice of Klink's secretary Hilda came through.
"General Burkhalter to see you, Kommandant," she announced. Hilda generally spoke in soft tones, but recently she'd adopted a slightly shriller register whenever it was necessary to rouse the Kommandant from his postprandial snooze.
"What – who – what… General Burkhalter, what a pleasure to see you!" It was impressive how quickly Klink's instinct for grovelling kicked in; and how fast it collapsed on perceiving the General's company: "And...uh...Major Hochstetter. You're here, too."
"Sorry to disturb you, Kommandant." As always, Hochstetter pronounced the last word as if he was about to spit it from between his teeth and grind it beneath his boot heel.
"Er… not at all, Major. I was just catching up on some paperwork."
Burkhalter gave a dry chuckle.. "Wouldn't that be easier with your eyes open?"
"Bowled Hochstetter, caught Burkhalter, out for a duck," murmured Newkirk. "Jolly well played, first eleven."
"Thank you, Fräulein Hilda, you may go," Burkhalter went on. "Klink, this is Regierungsdirektor Werniger, Gestapo Department E1. He has requested our co-operation in a matter of security."
"Oh, I'm always happy to co-operate on matters of security," burbled the Kommandant. "What is it about?"
"It is top secret, Klink."
"I understand. What's it about?"
"Nothing you need to know, Kommandant," growled Hochstetter. "We are commandeering your office. You may leave."
"One moment." Werniger had a deep, resonant voice, like a Wagnerian baritone. "Burkhalter, is this man to be trusted?"
"He is loyal," replied Burkhalter, "but stupid."
Werniger chuckled. "I like that in a man. Klink, you may stay."
"With respect, Herr Regierungsdirektor," Hochstetter put in, "I have already expressed my opinion of using this camp as a base. I must advise you most strongly against letting this man have any part in this."
"Hochstetter, you are obsessed," said Werniger. "Stalag 13 is the perfect location for this operation. It is central, and it is secure, and I have no doubt Colonel Klink will be happy to make himself useful during our stay. And if there is any breach of security, he will face a firing squad."
"You almost convince me." Hochstetter's voice was harsh enough to make the speaker vibrate, and the listeners in the barracks exchanged sly grins.
"Now," Werniger went on, "to business. General Burkhalter, so far I have not explained to you the nature of our investigation."
"Well, don't keep us waiting." Hogan quirked an eyebrow at the coffee pot. "We're all ears."
Werniger seemed happy to oblige. "For some time now, we have been monitoring clandestine radio transmissions in this area. However, we have not yet been able to make sense of them. Each time we come close to breaking their code, they change their key words and phrases."
"Very clever of them," murmured Klink.
Hogan gave a mock bow. "Thanks. But I don't like the sound of this. Carter, get down to the tunnel, and tell Kinch to stop transmitting."
"Recently, they have instigated a new code book. We have already compiled a list of coded messages."
There was a sound of rustling paper, before Klink spoke again: "You're the best enemy a man ever had… Frankly, General, I thought it was a lousy neighbourhood anyway… That would mean I would have to die first… Sir, these sentences make no sense."
"Of course they don't, Klink," snapped Burkhalter. "That is the whole point of using a code. Unless one has the code book with the translations, any broadcast is meaningless."
"Just so." Werniger took over again. "By good fortune, one of our agents in Hammelburg has made a copy of the code book. He is to meet us near this camp this evening and deliver it. Once it is in our hands, we will be able to understand and respond to any Underground message."
"Now I really don't like the sound of this." Hogan had pulled his own copy of the code book out of his pocket, and was consulting it. "You're the best enemy a man ever had . That's code for Deep cover agent." He turned a couple of pages. "Frankly, General, I thought it was a lousy neighbourhood anyway means Rocket programme plans. And That would mean I would have to die first is code for Pick up at crossroads. "
"Blimey, that's an entire mission they've picked up," Newkirk burst out.
"That's the job we did two nights ago," LeBeau squeaked at the same moment.
"It sure is." Hogan's eyes darkened. "We've got a big problem."
"What's going on?" Kinch came through the door at a run.
"The new code's been compromised," said Hogan. "The Krauts are about to get their hands on a copy of the code book. Any messages coming in are liable to be broken down."
"Then we got trouble," replied Kinch, waving a sheet of paper. "This just came in. That's the first time I realised she's not a man… I can't even see the floor … You look like you've just seen a ghost…"
Hogan flipped through the code book. "Tonight's bombing target… Oil refinery… Diversion required."
"Colonel, what are we gonna do?" said Carter.
"I don't know if there's anything we can do. If we leave camp to create the diversion, we'll be walking right into a trap. And if we don't, those bombers will be sitting ducks." Hogan frowned, and pulled on his lower lip.
Newkirk had taken the message from Kinch, and was scrutinising it as though looking for a way out. "Can't we tell London to cancel the bombers?"
"I guess we could, but…" Hogan trailed off. After a minute he went on. "Sooner or later, that refinery has to be put out of action. If our bombers can't hit it tonight, they'll have to try again, and soon. And since it could take months to get a new code issued, every time they fly out they'll be at risk, unless we can provide the necessary diversion."
"Well, maybe we can come up with a diversion from right here," suggested Carter.
LeBeau proceeded to embroider on this idea:"Like maybe planting a bomb in the road to blow up the dirty spy who's bringing the code book to the Boche."
"Wait a minute." Hogan snapped his fingers. "LeBeau, you just gave me an idea."
"We're gonna blow up the road?" Carter's eyes brightened.
"No," said Hogan. "We're gonna do this strictly by the book. The code book, that is."
His men looked at him, then at each other. "Colonel, I don't get it," said Kinch. "But whatever you've got in mind, I bet it's good. What's the plan?"
Hogan laid the notebook down on the desk, and grinned. "We're gonna make sure that code book is delivered. And that will give us just the diversion we need."
Of course, you know what this means - it's time for the 2019 Short Story Speed Writing Challenge.
The rules:
1. Between Saturday 15th June 2019 and Saturday 29th June 2019, write as many short one-shot stories as you wish, based on the given prompts.
2. The minimum word count is 1,000 words and the maximum word count is 5,000. Author's notes should be kept to a minimum – please save your word count for story content.
3. This year's prompts are quotes taken directly from episodes of Hogan's Heroes (again). Your story must include at least one of these quotes:
Mother Nature's sure powerful when she wants to be
That would mean I would have to die first.
Sorry, I only answer two questions at a time.
That's the smallest general I ever saw.
He had that same look on his face the other night when he got us into this mess.
Heck, who'd believe that, even in wartime?
I can't even see the floor.
Well, let's face it, no day's perfect.
She gets you alone in the inn, no telling what might happen.
The French have always been great cooks, but terrible fighters.
You know, being a prisoner of war is a very dangerous branch of the service.
Frankly, General, I thought it was a lousy neighbourhood anyway.
I suppose when you've got it, you never really lose it, do you?
You look like you've just seen a ghost.
Hide it in the barracks, and I mean hide it so even we can't find it.
That's the first time I realised she's not a man.
You're the best enemy a man ever had.
4. If you recognise the source of the quote, please don't base your story on that episode. It will be much more fun for both writers and readers if you make something entirely new out of it. (If you can fit it into a story based on a completely different episode, that's even more fun.)
5. Any genre, style or format is welcome, provided it's not in breach of the terms of the site where you post it, and as long as it doesn't infringe on copyright law. Songfics are accepted, but only if no breach of copyright is involved.
6. All stories are to be posted, on your preferred site, on Saturday 29th June 2019. This means, as long as it's 29th June somewhere in the world when you post, your story qualifies as part of the challenge.
7. Don't forget to have fun!
And one tiny note - sorry for the cricket reference. I couldn't resist...