Sergeant James Kinchloe hurried across the compound of Stallag 13. Schultz had been sent to fetch him for some odd reason by Klink. When Kinch got to the Kommandant's porch, Kinch tensed when he realized that the Gestapo was there, and holding someone.
"Sergeant Kinchloe, this...." said Klink, gesturing towards the unconscious man "Is the new senior POW officer. Gentlemen, please come into my office, and we will discuss this further."
Kinch, held back by the Gestapo, watched as the guards dropped the officer onto the cold, hard ground.
The second that the guards were in Klink's office, Kinch was on his knees next to the officer.
"Hey! Kinch!"
Kinch looked up to see the camp medic, Sergeant Wilson running over to him. When Wilson had reached him, he threw himself down on his knees next to the officer.
"I saw what happened. I brought my medical bag, it looks like we will need it." Wilson gasped.
Suddenly, a small moan came from the officer. Kinch gently lifted the officer's head and set it down in his lap. The Colonel had thick, matted, jet black hair. The American Colonel had many cuts and bruises, and many tears and blood stains on his uniform.
Another moan came from the Colonel. His eyes cracked open. Kinch could now see that he had brown eyes.
"Sir, it's ok. I'm Sergeant Kinchloe, and this is Sergeant Wilson, our medic. We are both American. We will take care of you sir. Don't worry. It's ok." Kinch told the injured officer in a soothing voice.
The colonel wheezed "Hogan, Robert E , Colonel, United States Army Air Force, serial numb..." and collapsed in a fit of coughing.
Kinch helped the Colonel into a sitting position, and then put his arm around him to keep the Colonel sitting up, and for comfort.
Colonel Hogan finally managed to stop coughing. He realized that the one Sergeant had his arm around him. Hogan tried to keep himself upright, but he did not have enough strength, and the next thing he knew, everything was black.