It was not often that Corporal Karl Langenscheidt found himself in a social situation. Especially a social situation involving Sergeant Hans Schultz. This was one of those times. Normally, they spent little time together outside of their actual duties at Stalag 13. Sgt. Schultz slept in a separate barracks from the young corporal, and they had very few interests in common. That is, other than keeping the men of Barracks Two from getting them reassigned to the Russian Front.

Tonight was very different. They had found themselves hijacked into one of Colonel Hogan's more ridiculous schemes. This did not really surprise either one of them, as it was something at which the wily colonel excelled. Both guards were aware that there were shenanigans taking place behind the door of Barracks Two, but both men had long ago decided that, because they loved their country more than its current politics, they would adopt a united front of not seeing or hearing a great deal. The trick was to stay alive in the process, and keep their families out of the clutches of the Gestapo.

This approach had not gone unnoticed by Papa Bear and his team, and they did what they could to protect both men, as well as Col. Klink. The kommandant's position was infinitely more precarious than even the two guards, because his continued success was vital to the Allied operation in the camp. And Hogan had long ago realized that Klink felt the same way as the two guards. He was Prussian first…and Hogan knew Klink hated to see Germany torn apart by war. They had talked over the subject many times during their games of chess.

Langenscheidt and Schultz were sitting together at a table at a small private party, as Hogan conducted some sort of monkey business with a beautiful woman and her husband. Both guards pointedly ignored the activity. The best part of their evening was that the party was taking place in a wine cellar, and their hosts were quite generous with their wine. And because Hogan had assured Schultz he would drive them (most of the way) back to camp, he and Karl were already on their second bottle.

This fact had much to do with the direction of their conversation. Somehow, Schultz had begun talking about his days as a young soldier during the previous war. He was telling the story of how he had ended up being drafted into the army. He had not wanted to go in. He was content working in his toy factory. His grandfather, a kindly old man, had trained him from the time he was very young in the many facets of toymaking, and running the factory, and there were times that young Hans had even filled in for his grandfather when he had gone away on business.

Hans' father had been a part of the business, but he took care of the books, and saw to the office staff. He was not a toymaker, and indeed, did not care much for children. He had no desire to continue the legacy of the Schatzi Toy Factory, but wisely, Hans' grandfather had drawn up a legal document stipulating that the factory could never be sold, and would go to Hans upon his death. And indeed, when his grandfather died when Hans was 17, though he was underage, the factory was transferred into his name. And his father never forgave him for it.

It was for that reason that, when Hans was drafted to fight in World War One, that the Schatzi Toy Factory was converted into a munitions factory the first time.

Schultz suddenly seemed to realize the melancholy turn of the conversation was bothering the younger man, so he changed the subject abruptly. "I will never forget the first thing our commanding officer told us at boot camp."

Startled and fairly drunk, Karl looked owlishly at his superior. "Oh, and what was that?"

"He had lined us all up in ranks, and let us stand at attention for over an hour without saying one word to any of us. He just stood there and stared at us. Eventually he said only one sentence, and then he left us to our instructors."

"And what did he say?"

"It is a fine thing you do today, and you will never regret it, unless someone shoots you."

Karl's eyes grew large and he chuckled. "He really said that?"

"He did; and then he marched away. And that was my introduction to the German Army."

Karl shook his head as he took another sip of his wine. "He sounds like the life of the party."

Schultz laughed heartily at that. "Oh, he was that, indeed. One of the worst commanders I ever had the—pleasure of serving under." Schultz poured another glass for himself, and Langenscheidt did not miss the heavy sarcasm.

Schultz was quiet for a while, lost in his thoughts, and Karl did not intrude. His own father had served in that war, and he knew there were many things he would never share with his sons. Even though he was proud of his sons, it had hurt the old man when Germany had taken all three of his older sons for their war machine. Karl privately prayed that the war would end before his younger brothers were old enough to be drafted.

Suddenly, Schultz smiled brightly, much like his normal self. "But, that was long ago and far away. And we are here now. And there is wine here and pretty girls, eh, my friend? So, I complain a little here and there…it is as I suppose they might say, a little whine once in a while is good for the soul?" He held up the nearly empty wine bottle in salute. And the big guard began to laugh uproariously at his own terrible joke.

And Karl smiled and realized that he and Hans Schultz had more in common than he had realized. And the thought somehow made him sad. He returned the older man's salute with a tip of his own glass. He offered a toast as Schultz poured them each the last of the wine.

"To wine and pretty girls, eh, my friend?"

Schultz nodded and grinned as he nodded towards Hogan. "And to monkey business!"

~The End~