A/N: This Christmas story is based on my favorite holiday movie It's a Wonderful Life. The Guardian Angel named Larry is my creation. I do not own Hogan's Heroes or any of it's characters. But I do own the DVD collection and enjoy watching them. I hope this meets Challenge # 256. And a Merry Christmas or Happy Hanukkah to all.

It's a Wonderful Life, Stalag Thirteen Style

Chapter 1---Carter

Technical Sergeant Andrew Carter couldn't have felt worse than if he had caused the injury himself; yet, he figured in someway he had. At least that's what he thought anyway. He figured he was lucky nobody was killed. As he sat by the lower bunk on which his best friend RAF Corporal Peter Newkirk lay unconscious, Carter could only recall what led up to his friend now being in this condition with two chances of ever waking up and living; slim and none according to Wilson. Newkirk, said Wilson, was in a coma.

"Carter," Colonel Robert Hogan, Senior POW officer of Stalag 13 and leader of the Hammelburg underground, code name Papa Bear, looked at his young sergeant and demolitions expert with concern. "Are you sure about these bombs? The last batch we used didn't work as well. They kept exploding before they were suppose to."

Carter grinned broadly. "No problem with these, boy, I mean Colonel. I don't know what was wrong with the last batch. London must've sent us a batch of duds."

Hogan still looked doubtful. "I hope you're right. We can't afford another problem. We might not get another chance at that bridge again."

"Don't worry, Gov'nor," Newkirk said. "Me mate Carter and I checked these ruddy things ourselves. Not a dud in the bunch. Should work like a charm."

Hogan seemed to relax at what Newkirk said. But inside, he was still worried. London had sent orders to destroy the Wyndmere Bridge which the Krauts were using to secretly deliver guns and ammunition to their troops. The first time he and his men had set explosives to destroy the bridge, and returned to camp, they gathered at the barracks window and waited for the night sky to light up in brilliant colors from the explosions. After fifteen minutes, Hogan checked his watch. Still nothing.

"Gentlemen, I think either somebody found and deactivated our explosives, or we got stuck with duds," Hogan sighed after closing the barracks window and leaning against the posts supporting the upper bunk and wrapping his arms around himself. He shook his head in frustration with pursed lips. "Damn!" he muttered.

French Corporal Louis LeBeau and negro Sergeant James Kinchloe, known as Kinch to his friends, stared at Carter and shook their heads.

"Carter, didn't you look at those explosives when they came in?" asked LeBeau. "At least if you had you could have saved us the time of having gone out there planting duds."

"I'm sorry," Carter replied with hands jammed in his jacket pockets and head down. "I didn't have a chance. I just assumed they were good."

"Next time check first," said Kinch.

"All right, knock it off," Hogan ordered. "It's not Carter's fault. London sent us duds is all. Kinch, get on the horn and let London know what happened and that they need to send us some more explosives. We need more than what we currently have if we're gonna blow that bridge."

"Yes, sir," Kinch replied heading back down below to the radio room.

Hogan looked at Carter. "Carter, go below and check the explosives we have left and make sure they're okay. And I mean really check this time. Okay?"

"Yes, sir, Colonel," Carter answered forlornly. "Right away." He soon followed Kinch below.

Carter again stared at Newkirk's unconscious form. "C'mon and wake up, Newkirk. I really am sorry about what happened. I didn't mean to have you get hurt. I really didn't. Please wake up." The young sergeant looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw the concerned face of Colonel Hogan. Hogan saw the pain in Carter's eyes. "Colonel, how come he doesn't wake up? It's been hours. What happens if he doesn't ever wake up?"

"I don't know, Carter," Hogan said gently, knowing the guilt his young Sergeant felt. "I wish I had an answer for you but I don't. All we can do is wait."

"It's all my fault, Colonel," Carter replied looking at Newkirk now. "I don't know what I'm gonna to do if he doesn't wake up. Newkirk's my very best friend."

Hogan sighed and wrapped his arms around himself. "I know he is. Carter, why don't you lay down and rest for awhile. One of us can sit with Newkirk. You've been sitting with him for hours. Besides, Wilson said it be hours, days, weeks or possibly never. You're exhausted."

"I can't rest, Colonel. Not until Newkirk wakes up. I don't care if I have to sit here day and night. I want my face to be the first one he sees when he wakes up. And I'll spend the rest of the war making it up to him for injuring him."

"Carter…"

"Please, Colonel. Just let me stay with Newkirk. I'm okay. Really," Carter replied looking up at his commander over his shoulder.

Hogan sighed wearily. He was not in the mood to argue. "Okay, Carter. Just for a little while longer. Then one of us will relieve you so you can rest."

"Yes, sir. Thanks, Colonel." Carter turned back and stared at his friend. Hogan could only shake his head and walk away, his heart breaking for both his men; not knowing what he could do to ease Carter's mind and help Newkirk.

Not hearing Hogan leave, Carter resumed thinking how he was to blame.

About two hours after Kinch returned upstairs, Carter returned upstairs and knocked on Hogan's door. He opened the door after hearing the Colonel bid him to enter. Hogan was seated at his desk with some papers in front of him. He looked up as the door opened.

"Yes, Carter?"

"I finished checking the explosives we have left, Colonel. Each one is okay."

"Good. Kinch told me London is gonna make a drop at 2300 hours tomorrow night of new explosives for us. "I want you and Kinch to got out tomorrow night, get them and bring them here. Then, two days from today we'll try again to destroy that bridge."

"Yes, sir."

"Okay. You might as well get some sleep. You and Kinch have a busy night tomorrow."

"Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight, Carter," Hogan replied returning to his paperwork.

As Carter opened the door and started to leave, he paused in the doorway and looked back. "Colonel?"

Hogan lifted his head. He looked exhausted to the young sergeant. "Did you want something?"

Carter shuffled his feet uncomfortably and chewed his lower lip. "I'm sorry, Colonel. I didn't mean…"

Hogan smiled warmly. "I know you are, Carter. And don't worry about it. It could've happened to anyone."

"Yeah but, it always seems to happen to me." He shrugged. "I don't know why you even keep me on the team, Colonel."

"You want to know why I keep you on the team, Carter?" Hogan replied laying down his pen. "I'll tell you. I keep you on my team because you're the best at what you do. That's why."

A small smile crept onto the sergeant's face. "I am? Gee, thanks Colonel. Goodnight."

"Good night, Carter." Hogan watched Carter close the door to his small room. Then, alone again, Hogan picked up his pen and resumed going over his papers.

Carter tried to stifle a large yawn without much success. He was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open. Cupping his chin in one hand with his elbow on his knee, Carter continued watching Newkirk.

Two days later, Hogan, Carter, LeBeau, Newkirk and Kinch all went back out to the bridge and set the explosives in the same places they had set the originals previously. Hogan had Carter and Newkirk check each one and both had found the batch in good condition. But Hogan had been through this long enough to know that whenever he thought there would be nothing to worry about there was usually something for him to worry about. And he couldn't shake this feeling tonight.

After setting the explosives, Hogan indicated to his men it was time to head back to camp before the fireworks. They were halfway back to Stalag 13 when they were spotted by a German patrol.

"Run!" Hogan shouted as he took off. The men split up and headed in different directions with Hogan and Kinch heading north, Newkirk and Carter west, and LeBeau straight ahead. Bullets began whizzing past their heads, with Hogan and his team returning fire. Each duo lost sight of each other when suddenly the night sky lit up in brilliant colors as the bridge disappeared. Hogan and Kinch hit the ground from the force of the explosion. Glancing at each other, they briefly exchanged grins. However, the gunshots had ceased and all was now quiet. Getting to their feet, yet keeping alert, Kinch and Hogan circled back and Hogan made a bird whistling noise and then waited. Moments later, a whistling noise was heard in response, and LeBeau emerged from behind some bushes.

"Have you seen Newkirk or Carter?" Hogan asked him, worried.

"Non, mon Colonel," LeBeau answered.

Glancing at Kinch, Hogan motioned for him and LeBeau to follow as they backtracked to where the bridge use to be and stumbled across the bodies of three guards. Hogan and Kinch checked and all were dead. Hogan saw they had not been shot, but were killed either by the force of the explosion as they were too close to the bridge when it blew, or from debris from the bridge.

A rustling noise was suddenly heard from the bushes close by. Hogan and his men froze, prepared to use their weapons. Then a whistling was heard; Hogan returned the whistle. He breathed a silent sigh of relief when Carter emerged from the bushes covered with dust from the explosion.

"Carter, where's Newkirk?" asked a now worried Hogan.

"I'm not sure, Colonel. He and I split up and last time I saw him he was heading that way." Carter was pointing in a direction that paralleled the bridge. "I think he was trying to get them…" motioning with his head towards the bodies, "…to follow him in the direction of the bridge to give the rest of us a chance to get away."

"Damn!" Hogan cursed. "Let's go." He led the way in the direction of the burning embers in the search of their missing team member. After about ninety minutes of searching, Hogan was frustrated as they had found nothing. He looked at his watch. They had two hours before morning roll call and they were risking capture by staying out here. And it would take at least an hour to get back to camp. But he didn't want to leave one of his men out here whether he be dead or alive. "We're gonna have to head back to camp," he said grimly.

"Colonel, we can't leave Newkirk out here!" cried Carter.

"Non, mon Colonel!" echoed LeBeau. "Pierre would not leave one of us behind especially if we were alive or injured."

"We don't even know if he is alive or injured," Hogan said softly. His decision was tearing him apart. "But we're risking getting caught if we stay here much longer or missing roll call which is in two hours and we have an hour's walk ahead of us. I'm sorry. We'll come back out after evening roll call and search again." He saw the distraught looks on the men's faces which mirrored his own feelings. "Look, I understand how you all feel. I don't want to leave Newkirk out here either but if we miss roll call, Klink will think we've escaped and then Hochstetter will get involved. Now let's go."

The men knew the Colonel was right. They would be of no help to Newkirk if they were captured. So reluctantly, they fell in behind Kinch and the Colonel and started to leave when Carter became excited when he glanced to his right. "Colonel! I think I see Newkirk!"

Hogan and Kinch turned and looked where Carter was pointing. Hurrying forward, a body in dark clothing could be seen partially buried under debris. Hogan dropped to his knees beside Newkirk and pressed two fingers against his neck. "He's alive! Let's uncover him and get out of here!"

Carter shook himself awake when he realized he had momentarily closed his eyes and nodded off. He glanced again at his friend lying so still and pale on the bottom bunk. He sighed wearily. "Please, Newkirk. Please open your eyes. I need you to open your eyes and look at me. C'mon, Newkirk. Please?" For a brief moment Carter thought his friend was about to open his eyes, but soon realized it was just wanting it so badly he was willing to believe the tricks his exhausted mind was playing. Rubbing his tired eyes, Carter went back to looking at his friend.

They had unearthed Newkirk in about thirty minutes and had managed to carry him back to camp and get him in the barracks. Hogan then sent LeBeau to bring back Wilson who, after a thorough examination, told the men that although Newkirk has sustained no visible injuries, he had apparently struck his head on something and was in a coma from which he couldn't be sure whether he would wake up.

Carter was visibly stunned and shaken. "Coma?" he asked sadly.

"I'm afraid so," Wilson explained grimly. "And the worst part is that whether or not he lives will depend on how soon he awakens, if he does."

"You, you mean Newkirk could be in a coma forever?"

Wilson didn't answer right away. He let out a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Carter. But all we can do is wait."

Carter shook himself awake again. He was having trouble keeping his eyes open. He yawned loudly and looked at his friend again. "None of this would've happened if it hadn't been for me. Colonel Hogan and the others would be better off without me," Carter admitted quietly. "Boy, I wish I had never even been born!"

"Carter. Carter wake up!" the voice said softly.

"Ummmm," Carter mumbled not wanting to open his eyes. "Go away."

"Carter, you have to wake up! C'mon!"

Blinking his eyes, Carter slowly sat up and after squeezing his eyes rubbed them. Finally awake, he looked over at the lower bunk and saw it was empty. He started to get up, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Where's Newkirk?" he asked, frightened. He looked around, expecting to see Colonel Hogan and instead stared wide-eyed at the stranger standing before him, his hand on Carter's shoulder. "Who are you?" he asked with mouth hanging open.

The man cupped Carter's chin in his hand and closed the young Sergeant's mouth. "I'm Larry. I'm your Guardian Angel."

"My what?!"

"Your Guardian Angel."

Carter looked the strange little man up and down. He was wearing an outfit similar to Carter's and had graying hair and brown eyes. He also wore a faded leather bomber jacket similar to Carter's except it was newer-looking. He also had a kindly, pleasant face. "Don't you believe I'm your Guardian Angel, Carter?"

"Oh I get it. This is some kind of joke the guys are playing on me."

"It's no joke, Carter. I really am your Guardian Angel."

Carter smirked. "Sure you are," he said sarcastically. "You know how I know you're not real?"

"How?"

"Because angels have wings and you don't have any. That's how I know."

Larry sighed. He knew this wasn't going to be easy when he was given the assignment. "That's true, Carter, that angels have wings. But I haven't earned mine yet. See, I have to do a good deed before I can earn my wings."

"Right," said Carter, still not believing what he was hearing. "If what you say is true, then what are you doing here at Stalag 13?"

"Don't you know, Carter? You are my good deed."

"Me? Why am I your good deed? What makes me so important?"

"Well, let's see. You said your friends would be better off without you. And that you wish you hadn't been born. I'm here to show you how wrong you are."

Okay," Carter said crossing his legs and folding his arms. "Let's say I buy all this. Then show me where Newkirk is."

Larry smiled affectionately. "All in good time, Carter. All in good time." He looked at his watch. "Oh dear. It's almost time for roll call. We must hurry if we don't want to be late. The Kommandant wouldn't like it." Larry jumped up, grabbed Carter's arm and hurried him out the barracks door where Carter noticed other prisoners from the barracks beginning to stand in formation. Larry stood beside Carter in Kinch's place. The young sergeant noticed nobody seemed to see Larry.

"Hey," said Carter. "You're standing in Kinch's place."

"Shhhh," whispered Larry. "Here comes the Kommandant and the Sergeant-of-the-Guard."

Standing in the back row, Carter turned and looked expecting to see Klink and Schultz. Instead, he saw a tall Sergeant who was very powerfully built with a mean expression on his face walking beside a tall, slightly handsome Kommandant who had an arrogant, angry look on his face. Carter's eyes widened as he glanced at Larry.

"Who are those guys?" he asked. "Where's Klink and Schultz?"

"Oh they're not here anymore," Larry replied quietly.

"Not here? Where'd they go?"

"They were both sent to the Russian front and are missing-in-action."

The Kommandant walked up and down the front row of prisoners with the guard behind him. He saw the Kommandant grin wickedly at a man in the front row.

"Hey, who are you?" Carter asked the man beside him. The man looked oddly familiar yet unrecognizable at the same time. "I don't remember seeing you here before." The man ignored Carter and seem to try to stand at attention.

"Hey, I'm talking to you. It's rude to ignore somebody when they're talking to you."

Larry tapped Carter on the shoulder causing the young man to looked around. "I suggest you be quiet," he said calmly.

"What d'ya mean I should be quiet? I'm not talking loudly."

"Simple. The Kommandant won't like it."

Carter rolled his eyes. "So what? We always talk at roll call."

Larry remained calm. "Not now you don't."

Carter shook his head to clear any cobwebs he thought he had. "I must've hit my head in the explosion when we blew that bridge. That's it. I hit my head."

Larry looked amused. "Bridge? What bridge? You didn't blow up any bridge."

Carter's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about what bridge? We blew up the Wyndmere bridge!"

Larry simply shook his head. "The Wyndmere bridge still stands. The Germans are getting good use of it I'm afraid. Oh, just so you know. The man beside you is Sergeant Olsen."

"Sergeant Olsen?! That's Sergeant Olsen?! I didn't recognize him. He…" He didn't finish as the Kommandant stood in front of him now.

"Did you have something to say, Sergeant?" the Kommandant sneered. He glanced back at his sergeant and smirked. "Well, do you?"

"Yes, sir, I mean no sir," said Carter. Something about this man and the guard frightened him.

"I didn't think so. Just keep in mind there is no talking at roll call in case you get any ideas. I'd hate to put you in the cooler again. Especially after you just spent sixty days there for talking during roll call."

"Yes, sir."

The Kommandant and guard walked past him and back to the front row. After the prisoners were dismissed, Carter sided up to Larry. "How come you didn't tell me I just spent sixty days in the cooler?"

Larry smiled. "You didn't ask me. Do you believe me now?"

"Why were Klink and Schultz sent to the Russian front?"

"All in good time, Carter. These things will all be explained in time. Trust me."

"Looks like I don't have too much choice."

"You really don't as a matter of fact."

"Okay. Let's just say for now I go along with this. First thing, explain to me where Kinch is."

Larry smiled. "Your wish is my command."