A/N: I do not own Hogan's Heroes or it's characters, but do the DVDs and enjoy watching them. This idea was originally developed by Scotty McSpockirk but never pursued, and I have been given permission to write it. Only the OCs are mine. Please read, review, and enjoy.
Double Trouble
Today was the type of day Hogan and the men of Stalag 13 had dreamed of. It was warm and sunny with a bright blue sky and only a few billowy white clouds floating by. But best of all, there were no missions from London to be carried out. Seems the last message from London twenty-four hours ago was to inform Hogan that they were going on radio silence because of a planned bombing raid and didn't want to chance the Nazis intercepting their radio messages before then.
So, with nothing to do for the next week, and unless the underground contacted them regarding downed flyers or someone needing to get out of Germany, Hogan ordered his men, especially his core unit, to just relax and enjoy the down time as there was no idea when they would get such a luxury again. So some of the men decided to take advantage of the free time by playing basketball, volleyball, and touch football, while others decided to simply lounge around and write letters to loved ones back home or simply catch up on some reading.
One such person taking advantage of the free time was Colonel Robert E. Hogan as he sat outside barracks two with two of his men, Staff Sergeant James Kinchloe and French Corporal Louis LeBeau, enjoying the warm afternoon sunshine and watching the volleyball game in which Newkirk and Carter were participating. Hogan was slouched down on the bench with legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles, arms wrapped around himself and crush cap pulled down over his face giving one the impression he was sleeping. But to those closest to him, he was anything but, being wide awake, and watching everything going on in the compound.
Kinch was balancing on one leg with the other leg bent, his foot on the edge of the bench his commander was seated on. He had one hand resting on the bent knee and his other hand stuffed in the pocket of his pea green jacket. He too, was watching the goings on in the compound. LeBeau, on the other hand, was leaning against the wall of the barracks on the opposite end on the bench with his legs crossed and arms folded across his chest. He chuckled when while diving for the ball, Carter sprawled face-down in the dirt as the ball bounded away from him.
"Leave it to Carter to miss an easy shot," the Frenchman said with a laugh. He glanced sideways at Kinch. "Think we should teach him the finer points of volleyball?" he asked.
"I thought Newkirk already did that," Kinch replied with a smirk watching Carter slowly get to his feet and dust himself off.
Hogan chuckled himself. "No wonder he missed it."
"Au contraire, mon Colonel," said LeBeau. "If Pierre taught him the finer points of the game, he probably has him thinking volleyball is played like soccer." He chortled again as well as Hogan and Kinch when something at the far end of the camp caught their eyes.
The front gates were opening and a medium-size truck came through the front gates, and pulled up outside the Kommandantur. Schultz waddled forward in time to watch two armed guards jump down from the back of the truck.
"Looks like we've got company, Colonel," said LeBeau as the three men watched the proceedings once the truck had come to a stop. They paid close attention as the two Luftwaffe guards who jumped down from the truck and stood back, their rifles aimed. One of them motioned with his arm and a man wearing shackles on his wrists and ankles jumped down from the back of the truck; they kept their weapons pointed at him. The prisoner was wearing brown trousers, a brown leather bomber jacket, and a crush cap. From a distance, the man was dressed similarly to Hogan. He was immediately followed by two more guards who jumped down after the prisoner, their weapons also aimed at the prisoner.
"Looks like an Air Force officer," Kinch said. He noticed the prisoners playing volleyball stopped their game and were now watching the proceedings with interest. Carter and Newkirk, the game now forgotten, quickly jogged over to the barracks where Hogan, Kinch and LeBeau were.
"What's goin' on, Colonel?" asked Newkirk. "That bloke's dressed like you."
"And the same rank," Carter mentioned. "Where do you think they caught him?"
"That's all we need," Newkirk teased looking at Hogan. "Another bloomin' officer." He saw Hogan give him a dirty look and smiled at the Colonel. "Just kidding you, Gov'nor," he said.
Hogan pushed his crush cap back on his head and got to his feet. Tugging on the bottom of his jacket, he wrapped his arms around himself, eyes still watching as the guards, two in front and two behind the prisoner, as they followed the rotund Sergeant-of-the-Guard up the stairs of the Kommandantur. Hogan looked at his men.
"Guess I'll go introduce myself," he told them with a smirk. "You guys listen in on the coffee pot." Hogan walked quickly in the direction of the Kommandantur all the while wondering who the new prisoner was. He knew immediately that the man was an officer from the way he was dressed, possibly Air Force as Kinch had commented. But other than that, Hogan knew nothing about the man. He wondered where the man came from? With London on radio silence he knew they couldn't inquire; and there had been no indication of any bombings having taken place nor of any downed flyers rescued by the underground and brought to the camp to be gotten out of Germany. So again, Hogan asked himself, where did this prisoner come from?
Hogan took the steps, two at a time, knowing by now the Kommandant would be giving the prisoner his sermon on Stalag 13 being 'the toughest POW camp in all Germany' and how 'nobody ever escaped from here,' among other non-important rubbish like that. Hogan knew Klink's indoctrination by heart and that he didn't need to rush because nothing would happen before he got there. And if he timed it just right, Hogan figured he could rescue the man from the remainder of Klink's sermon. He smirked as he entered the building. "If only the Nazis knew what a weapon of torture they had in Klink," he told himself. "The weapon being boredom by indoctrination."
Kinch, LeBeau, Newkirk, and Carter entered Hogan's office and closed the door. Kinch plugged in the coffee pot just in time to hear the Kommandant's door open.
"Hogan, what are you doing here?"
"I am Senior POW officer here in case you've forgotten, Kommandant. And unless I'm sadly mistaken, this is a new prisoner."
"HoGAAAAAAAN!"
"Sorry, sir. I forget my place sometimes."
"I'll deal with you later."
"Promises, promises."
"What was that?"
"Nothing, sir. Nothing. Just rambling."
The prisoner watched the interaction between the American and the German with much interest. He was prepared to overlook this American officer, but the moment the German called the American 'Hogan,' it caught his attention. He had been told there were no officers in Stalag 13, much less one named Hogan. As far as he knew, it was a camp for NCOs only. So seeing an American officer immediately made him suspicious. He then noticed the name tag on the officer's jacket: 'COL. R.E. HOGAN.' His face showed no emotion whatsoever. He had learned a long time ago to not reveal his feelings and to keep his face impassive when confronted by something that caught him by surprise as this did. The fact that this American was so at ease in the presence of a German didn't sit well with him either.
"Remember, just name, rank and serial number," Hogan said.
"Silence!" Klink demanded.
Hogan clasped his hands behind his back and pretended to look completely cowed in front of the Kommandant; then the American winked at the prisoner with a smirk on his face.
The men were having trouble containing themselves hearing their commander's exchange with Klink and knew Hogan was doing his best to throw Klink off his game if only for a short time.
"The Gov'nor's in rare form today," Newkirk chuckled.
"Oui," LeBeau added. "He knows Klink's indoctrination of new prisoners inside and out. It is a thing of beauty to hear."
"And it's funny too," Carter chimed in. Newkirk looked at the younger man with a roll of his eyes.
"Be quiet," Kinch ordered. "Let's hear the rest of this and find out who this guy is."
After calming himself again, Klink turned his attention to the new prisoner. The man who stood before him was about the same height as Hogan, and appeared to be the same weight; except he had dark brown hair and brown eyes. He then wondered where the guards had found this man and what was he doing here and where was he captured.
"Where is your air base?"
The man looked over at Hogan and saw the American shake his head. The man then looked at a spot on the wall beyond Klink and stared at it, exhaling but remaining quiet.
Klink slammed his hand down on the desk. He interpreted the man's silence to mean he was either going to be uncooperative when questioned and divulge nothing, or at least nothing useful. Then, clasping his hands together, and with a smirk on his face, Klink looked up at the man again.
"We have ways of making you talk, you know. It's futile to resist, Colonel." There was a pause. "Vas Du Das Krieg Est Uber."
The man looked at Hogan again who tilted his head towards him and whispered in his ear.
"He means for you the war is over. That's his favorite line just so you know."
"HoGAAAAAAAN! I'm conducting this interrogation if you don't mind!"
"Then get to it and ask something pertinent instead of the usual Nazi mumbo-jumbo."
"I'm warning you, Hogan. One more word out of you and I'll have you thrown out of this office."
"There's those promises again."
"What was that?"
"Nothing, sir. Nothing."
"See that it stays that way." Klink said glaring at his American counterpart. He then fixed his eyes on the new prisoner. "Now, I will ask you again, where is your air base?"
Looking at Hogan for guidance again, the American shook his head. The prisoner, refusing to answer, looked at the same spot on the wall behind Klink's head again.
"All right. Then perhaps you can answer this question. What is the name and location of your squadron?" Again there was no response. "All right then. Perhaps a week in solitary will loosen your tongue. Also, the Gestapo will be here in twenty-four hours to question you as well. Then we'll see how talkative you become. Schuuuuuuultz!"
The rotund guard who had been standing in the background the entire time, stepped forward and saluted. "Jawohl, Herr Kommandant."
"Take our new friend here to the cooler and put him in solitary confinement. Perhaps after a week there he'll become more cooperative."
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant."
"And while you're at it, take Hogan out of here and see to it he gets back to his barracks and stays there."
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant."
Kinch unplugged the coffee pot and looked at the others. He folded his arms across his chest. "I don't get it," he said partly to himself.
"Don't get what?" asked Newkirk.
"This guy didn't even give Klink his name, rank, and serial number. Nothing."
"Oui. That is strange," LeBeau added. "I wonder why that is?"
"Maybe he doesn't know his name, rank, or serial number," said Carter.
"What are you natterin' on about?" asked Newkirk with a puzzled look.
"Well, suppose he has amnesia or something," Carter went on. "That way he wouldn't know his name, rank, or serial number." The young Sergeant saw the others all staring at him.
"Carter, when you missed that shot during the volleyball game earlier, did you happen to strike your head on the ground or something?" asked the Englander.
Carter shook his head. "Nope. I feel fine. Why?"
"Just askin' is all," Newkirk replied staring at his friend sympathetically.
Schultz unlocked the cell door and held it open to allow the new prisoner to enter. The man walked in slowly while he looked around at the surroundings before sitting down on the cot. Having followed the prisoner inside the cell, Schultz bent down as much as he could with his bulk, and picking up the manacle attached to a chain, the opposite end embedded in the wall near the bed, and fastened the manacle around the prisoner's ankle. Standing up with a loud groan, Schultz waddled back towards and outside the open cell door to where Hogan stood and started to close it, but paused when Hogan said "Wait a minute, Schultz. I'd like to talk to our friend here for a few minutes."
"Colonel Hogan, it would mean my life if I allowed that. Solitary means nobody can see or talk with the prisoner and you know that."
Hogan, reaching inside his jacket, removed a candy bar and held it up in front of the guard with his back slightly turned to the prisoner so he couldn't see what he was doing. "I won't tell Klink if you won't."
Looking around first, and seeing nobody, Schultz grabbed the chocolate bar. "What the Kommandant doesn't know won't hurt. You have five minutes." Schultz then walked a short distance away to enjoy his prize in peace.
With a weary sigh, Hogan slowly walked inside, closing the door behind him. Standing in front of the new prisoner, he wrapped his arms around himself and stared down at the man, mindful that the man was looking up at him with an amused grin.
"Okay, pal, cut the act. There's nobody here now but you and me. That was quite a performance you put on for Klink, but it's not gonna work with the Gestapo when they get here. Those fellas play rough. But maybe I can help you. But first, why don't you tell me who you are?"
The man smiled a seemingly knowing smile as if he knew something Hogan didn't. "I know who I am, Colonel. But do you know who you are?"
Hogan's eyebrows knitted. "Look, this isn't a game. I can't help you if you don't talk to me. Can we at least start with your name. It's a simple question."
The man smirked. "Hogan, Robert E., Colonel, serial number 0876707."
Hogan chuckled. "That's very funny. Look, pal, I only have a few minutes before I have to leave. So stop wasting my time and tell me who you are."
"I told you. My name is Hogan, Robert E., Colonel, serial number 0876707."
Hogan found himself unable to respond. He could only stand there with his jaw hanging open and eyes widened in shock.