Chapter 1:
"Alright, now does everyone know their jobs?" Hogan asked, tucking his loaded pistol into its holster. He and his men were all dressed in their blacks and reviewing the plan for tonight's assignment: blowing up a train hauling 400 pounds of ammunition to the French Border. The German soldiers fighting on the Western Front had currently been struggling to get a hold of extra ammo for their firearms and weaponry, and Germany had finally been able to schedule a train drop off. And it was Hogan's goal to make sure the train never arrived.
"You and Kinch are to keep look out from beyond the forest near the train track. Louis, Andrew, and I are to go to the tracks, wire up the bombs, and set the timer and make it back to you two before time's up." Newkirk answered.
"Good," the colonel said, then turned to his youngest team member. "Carter, you know how long to set the bomb for?"
"Two hours on the dot, Colonel. That's 120 minutes or 7200 seconds if you convert it from hours." The technical sergeant replied, feeling proud about his exceptional knowledge in mathematics.
"Andrew, do us a favor and shut your yap before yah bore me to death," Newkirk said, with a growl.
"Focus, guys. We have exactly three hours to get this job done before that train leaves the station in Leipzig." Hogan ordered firmly.
"Hey, Colonel; you think we'll have enough time to watch the train go up in flames?" Carter asked. It always excited him to see his bombs in action.
Hogan smirked, knowing just how passionate the young man was of his work.
"Not tonight, but maybe the next assignment, Carter," he said, with a kind smile. The colonel looked down at his wrist and checked the time. 9:00PM. Showtime. "Well, we better start heading out. We got quite a walk ahead of us."
There was an exchange of nods around the room, then the men followed their commander up the fake tree stump and into the dark night of unknown danger. It took about an hour for the group of five to reach the train tracks and once at their destination, Hogan again turned to his men.
"Newkirk, Carter, LeBeau, I want the job done as quick as possible. The train's leaving in another hour, and patrols are bound to double within the next half hour. Get in, wire the bombs, then get back here immediately afterwards. No detours or distractions, understood?" The colonel ordered.
"Yes, Sir," the three men in question said.
"Good. Alright, now get going. And good luck."
The trio took off from Hogan and Kinch and headed for the tracks. Once they arrived, Carter and Newkirk knelt down beside the railings, while LeBeau looked around for any Kraut patrols.
"Hey, how much ammo do you think they're sending on this train to France? Colonel Hogan made it seem like quite a bit," Carter said, trying to make conversation.
"Three, maybe four hundred pounds." Newkirk answered, taking an estimated guess.
"Four hundred pounds?! Is that much even necessary?"
"Have you heard the recent score from the Western Front? London 47, Krauts -5."
"I didn't know they started keeping scores in war. Do you know what Russia's is?"
The Englishman slowly turned his head towards the sergeant and glared at him.
"Andrew, shut up and wire the bombs before I tie you to the tracks as well," Newkirk said, aggravated with his friend's naivety.
The two continued on in silence and as they worked, LeBeau spotted a few shadowy figures from afar. A Kraut patrol.
"It's the bosche!" The little Frenchman whispered, harsh.
"Quick! Duck down behind the hill!" Newkirk called, soft.
The group hurried to one another, then dropped down on their stomachs to stay out of sight. Every once and awhile, Newkirk looked up, taking the role of leader, and checked to see if the coast was clear.
The patrol, three Gestapo men, thought they had heard a disturbance in the far distance. Growing curious, the trio made their way a bit closer to the train tracks to investigate. They got close enough to the point that Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter held their breaths.
"What? Was ist es?" One Gestapo man, a corporal asked.
"I thought I heard noise," the leader, a lieutenant said, scanning the area.
"What kind of noise, Herr Leutnant?" The third man, a sergeant asked.
"Like men talking. It sounded like it came from the west." The lieutenant answered, pointing ahead of him.
"Perhaps we should investigate further, Herr Leutnant," the corporal suggested, his eyes flicking from the direction his commander was pointing at and back at the man himself.
"It was probably just a raccoon. They're very active at this time of night," the sergeant said, a gruffness in his tone.
"What do we do, then?" The corporal asked.
"Go back to our posts. If I hear it again, we will come back and search further." The officer ordered.
"Yes, Sir," both enlisted men said.
The three Gestapo men made their way back into the forest, leaving Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter to themselves.
Once sure they were gone and out of hearing range, the trio all released a breath of air in relief.
"Merci, mon Dieu." The little Frenchman murmured.
"Let's get back to work...and no more talking unless it's an emergency." Newkirk warned.
Without another word, the three part-time prisoners went back to their duties and soon had the bombs timed and the tracks wired. They checked their work over once more for any possible errors, then made their way back to Hogan and Kinch, who were hiding behind a colossal bush and tree.
"Everything set?" The colonel asked.
"Two hours on the dot, Sir," Newkirk said, pulling his firearm out from its holster.
"Good. Let's head back to camp before someone notices we're missing." Hogan remarked.
"Right," all four of Hogan's men said.
The five set out on their destination and silently made their way through the night.
Back in the safety of their barracks, Hogan and his men stood at the window in between Carter and Newkirk's and Kinch and LeBeau's bunk, which hid the entrance to their underground tunnel network. All five were anxious for the moment the explosion would go off and make as much noise as fireworks on the 4th of July.
"Boy, Colonel, I sure can't wait to hear that thing go up in flames!" Carter cried, with excitement. He started making explosion noises, suddenly hit with a burst of energy.
Hogan silently chuckled, then cocked his head to the left slightly.
"That train's going in three...two…" Newkirk was cut off before he ever got to one by a loud boom, several more explosions, and the ground shaking like a seven point Richter scale earthquake had gone off. Flames and fumes could be seen from beyond the horizon hidden by the forest. The initial impact of the explosions were so intense, it knocked Hogan and his men off their feet and onto the ground of the barracks. Once the shaking had past, the five got to their feet, brushed themselves off, then turned to one another with wide grins, the colonel with the biggest one of all.
"Good work, guys," Hogan said, filled with pride.
As the five were about to celebrate their victory, the door to their barracks slammed open, and Schultz came bolting in for dear life.
"Earthquake! Earthquake! Nehmen Sie Deckung! Nehmen Sie Deckung!" The big sergeant cried, trying to fit himself underneath the table in the main area.
"Relax, Schultz; it was a sabotage attack by the Allies," Kinch said calmly, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets.
Schultz slowly emerged from the table and looked at Hogan and his core unit in terror.
"You mean...there's no earthquake?" He questioned.
"Come on, Schultz. When have you heard of an earthquake happening in Germany?" Carter remarked, giving a small grin.
Schultz sighed and nodded.
"Perhaps you're right, Carter...how did you know that was a sabotage attack by the Allies?" The German guard was beginning to feel a chill run up and down his spine. Hogan was about to answer, when Schultz cut him off. "Wait a minute. Forgeeet it. I hear nothing...I know noooothing!" And with that, he walked out of the barracks and made his way back to his post without another word.
The colonel stared at the door for a bit longer, then turned to face his men again.
"Well," He said. "I say it's time for us to head to bed. Roll call's in another three hours."
"Well, I can always dream of getting a full eight hours of sleep," Newkirk said, with a sigh.
LeBeau scoffed at the comment.
"I need at least ten hours of sleep before I can properly do anything." He answered.
Hogan, with a hand on his hip, shook his head while smiling, then made his way towards the small room in the corner for the evening.
Their commander turning in for the night, the four enlisted men followed suit, jumped into their bunks, and fell into a deep sleep. Tomorrow would bring more than they had intended to find.