Author's Note: Another 'What If' story where I deviate from the usually lighthearted nature of the Hogan's Heroes TV show. This one is a little more intense. Sacrifices must be made in war. Sometimes it's a sacrifice of money or time. Sometimes it's a sacrifice of life. And sometimes it's a sacrifice of the freedom of the heart. I would encourage the readers to travel back in time and consider the sacrifices they would have had to make if they had lived through World War Two. Who would the blue stars in your window stand for?

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hogan's Heroes characters.

Not Untouched

"It was a dark and stormy night. The wind moaned through the trees and thunder rumbled ominously in the sky. In the forest below, shadows like ghosts were everywhere. Four black figures creep quietly through the woods, jumping at every sound…"

"Carter, would you cut it out?" Angel interrupted the American's colorful description of the mission.

Carter shrugged. "It just seemed like tonight need a narrator."

"You've listened to too many radio dramas." Colonel Hogan told him.

"Oui." LeBeau scowled at Carter. "The next line should be 'three of the black figures jump on the fourth one and gag him to make him be quiet'."

"Well that would make a lousy story." Carter complained.

"Carter's right." Hogan glanced around. "I prefer the one where we don't get caught by the patrol."

"Me too." Angel agreed immediately. "So let's get moving. The bridge is only a quarter of a mile east of here."

They continued their trek in silence. Angel shivered as a gust of wind pierced through her clothes. It was indeed a dark and stormy night. The kind of night on which the very air seemed to tingle with warning of the unseen and unspoken. Angel shook her head. Carter's narration was getting to her.

They finally reached the bridge and paused to reconnoiter. The dark shape was barely visible in the night, but it was obvious that there were no guards.

"Ok." Hogan said at last. "We'll go in and wire the bridge. Angel, you're on lookout duty."

"Right Colonel." Angel responded. "Be careful."

"You can count on it." Hogan started moving carefully down the hill towards the bridge. Carter and LeBeau followed.

Angel lost sight of them as they entered the shadows under the structure. Every once in a while, she'd glimpse a slight movement that indicated that they were still busy. But Angel spent little time looking under the bridge. She was scanning the trees and the road on either side, waiting tensely for any sign that a patrol was approaching. Aside from the wind tossing the trees around and the shifting shadows as the clouds obscured the moon, she saw nothing.

Then the three men were scurrying back up the hill toward Angel. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Carter, are you sure those new explosives will work?" Hogan asked as they arrived.

"Boy will they ever!" Carter answered. "See, the way I designed them, I figure they might even be a little more powerful than our old ones."

"In that case, let's get out of here." Colonel Hogan began working his way through the forest in the direction of camp.

"Aw. Can't we stay and watch?" Carter asked.

LeBeau rolled his eyes, although Carter couldn't see that in the dark, and gave his friend a little shove. "Do you want to end up like burnt toast?" The short Frenchman also began walking away.

"They're not that much more powerful." Carter said defensively as he trailed after him. "At least, I don't think they are."

Angel laughed silently and was about to follow when she realized that she didn't have the field glasses that she had been using to keep watch a few minutes ago. She dropped into a crouch, thinking that she had left them on the ground somewhere. After a minute of groping blindly, her hand closed over the smooth metal object and she scooped it up quickly.

"I'm getting clumsy. Angel, don't do that again." She berated herself as she turned to go.

There was an explosion from the bridge. The force from the blast slammed Angel violently against a nearby tree. She felt a sharp pain sear through her head and then everything went black.

Hogan, LeBeau and Carter, farther into the woods, also felt the percussion from the bridge blowing up. It shook the ground, but was not strong enough to knock them down.

"Wow!" Carter whispered ecstatically. "That must've been a beauty!"

"The timers must have gone off early." LeBeau said. "It has only been two minutes."

"Yeah." Hogan frowned. "We really need to calibrate those things better." He looked around. "Where's Angel?"

"She was right behind me." Carter answered.

"Well she's not there now." Hogan snapped, becoming worried.

"Colonel, you don't think…" LeBeau's voice trailed off and they all began to run back in the direction they had just come from.

In a few seconds, they had reached the look-out point. The wind had increased and the broken, smoking remnants of the bridge gave the scene a nightmarish look. Carter was the first to spot Angel.

"There!" He called hoarsely, pointing to a crumpled shape on the ground. The three men rushed over to her.

Angel was lying on her side and Colonel Hogan carefully turned her over, thankful to find that she was still breathing.

"She must have been caught in the explosion." LeBeau said quietly.

"Yeah." Hogan slipped a hand under Angel's head and found a thick, sticky substance matting her hair. "I think she hit her head. We've got to get her back to camp." He stood up and looked back toward the bridge. "The Krauts will be here to investigate any moment."

"I'll carry her." Carter spoke up, his voice strangely heavy. "It's my fault she got hurt."

"No it is not." LeBeau argued vehemently. "You did not know the explosion was going to be that big."

"But I was the last one in line." Carter shot back "I should have realized that she wasn't behind me."

"She wouldn't blame you." Hogan cut in. "So it doesn't even matter. Let's just get her back to camp."

It was a somber trio that began its journey back to Stalag 13.

Rose paced through the rough hospital tent, her eyes following the line of metal army cots with snowy sheets on the thin mattresses. The sheets had just been bleached and they looked brand new. It was odd to find something that white this far into the war zone, even in a hospital. Rose took pleasure in the cleanliness and orderliness of the ward.

Suddenly, the door burst open and a stretcher was carried in, followed by a team of doctors and nurses.

"We've got a shrapnel wound." One doctor called. "And a bunch more coming in."

Rose could hear the sounds of ambulances arriving and frantic scrambling to unload patients. "I've got this one." She told the doctor.

The man nodded gratefully and hurried back outside to organize the flood of wounded soldiers.

"Back cot on the right." Angel told the stretcher bearers, leading the way even as she spoke. More stretchers came spilling in as they moved to the back of the tent.

The ambulance attendants carefully shifted the wounded man onto the cot while Angel waited patiently for them to finish their job and get out of her way. As the orderlies moved away from the bed, Angel finally had a chance to look at the man.

Time stopped. Angel's heart froze and the activity around her blurred into nothingness. She felt like the breath had been squeezed out of her by a giant vice. "Jay."

"What happened?" Kinch asked as Carter and LeBeau lowered Angel into the tunnel. He stepped forward and helped Colonel Hogan catch the girl.

"She was too close to the explosion. Hit her head." Hogan answered shortly.

They carried her to the spare cot in the radio room. In the light of the oil lamps, the blood at the back of her head was more apparent. Kinch cautiously turned Angel's head to the side and felt the wound.

"She's got a pretty bad bump." He stated. "We should get this cleaned out."

"LeBeau, go get some water." Hogan ordered.

"Yes, mon colonel." The Frenchman hurried away.

Carter was hovering nearby. "Is she gonna be ok?"

Kinch looked up at him, noting the worried tone of voice. "I think so."

Hogan lifted one of Angel's eyelids. "She might have a concussion. If she doesn't wake up soon, we better get the medic."

Just then, Angel gave a small whimper. Her body stiffened and a single tear rolled down her cheek.

"What's happening?" Carter asked anxiously.

"I don't know." Hogan answered. He frowned.

Kinch watched the girl carefully. "It looks like she's having a dream of some kind."

"Oh Jay, what happened?" Rose whispered as the paralyzing shock began to wear off. Almost mechanically, she began to assess the condition of the patient. It was obvious he had taken the brunt of a shrapnel attack. His face was bruised and cut. Blood seeped from deep gashes in his chest and arms, soaking the once white sheets and leaving a crimson pool. The hastily applied bandages were doing nothing to stop the flow.

Rose reached for a nearby stack of supplies and covered the worst of the wounds with gauze, pressing down firmly to try and stop the fatal blood loss. She looked again at the face of the wounded soldier.

He was young, only two years older than she. He was shorter and smaller than a lot of men, but he still had an athletic build that made him fast and strong. His close cut hair was dark and stuck out in all directions, just like Rose remembered it used to do when he was tired after a long day of work. His eyes were closed, but she knew they were brown and that they sparkled when he was teasing.

"Come on Jay." Rose said softly. "You have to go home after this is all over. We're going to sit down and laugh about old times."

"Rose?" A voice startled her and her head snapped around to stare at the newcomer.

One of the assistants had been sent over to help her. He looked at Rose with a mixture of perplexity and pity on his face. "You knew him?"

"I know him." Rose was careful to use the present tense. "He's a friend of mine from back home."

Kinch finished wrapping a strip of cloth around Angel's head. The girl had made no more sound and lay very still, as if it were only a shell of her in the tunnel and the real Angel was a thousand miles away. She was beginning to scare her three friends who were watching.

A noise came from the end of the tunnel and Newkirk appeared, still in his nightshirt. He took in the scene before him quickly. "When was someone going ta tell me that Angel was 'urt?" He asked angrily.

"It's not serious." Hogan assured him, cutting to root of the man's anger.

"And that's why you're all sitting down here, looking so gloomy?" Newkirk shot back, but a bit of the edge had gone out of his voice.

"She just hadn't woken up yet." Kinch said calmly. "She will."

Newkirk moved to the bedside with the rest of them and looked down at the still figure of Angel. "She looks… sad." He said awkwardly after a moment of silence.

Rose tightened the last bandage she had placed and tried to ignore the fact that she had Jay's blood all over her hands. It seemed to cover everything. There was just so much of it.

Rose yanked herself out of the spiral of despair that the sight had sent her into and sucked in a deep breath. She reached for the damp cloth that had been placed nearby and began to gently clean the abrasions on Jay's face. It was a small, insignificant action but it was something to do that might keep her hope alive.

All of a sudden, he shuddered and groaned. Rose dropped the cloth and watched Jay apprehensively. Slowly, his eyes opened and focused. She read the surprise when he recognized her.

"Hello Rose." He said quietly. His eyes held a tiny bit of a smile under the glaze of torment.

Rose wanted to return the smile. Jay greeted her as if it was just one of the many times he had come to visit her family back home.

Not as if he were stretched out on a hospital bed in Europe, bleeding to death.

"Hey Jay." Rose answered. She attempted a grin. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"I volunteered." Jay swallowed and closed his eyes as a wave of pain swept over him.

"Maybe you shouldn't have." Rose's voice caught. It was torture to watch him. To compare him in this state to the friendly teenage boy she had hung out with during the summers of her own childhood. It seemed like centuries ago.

"Rose, listen." The intensity in Jay's voice made something inside of Rose cry out. He had always been easy-going and quiet.

"I'm here." Rose said.

Jay reached out and gripped her forearm. "When you get home, tell my parents and my brother goodbye for me." He struggled for breath as his body slowly gave up. "Tell them I miss them. And love them."

"Jay, come on." Rose pleaded. "Keep fighting." She clasped his hand and squeezed it tightly.

A trace of a grin appeared on Jay's face as his eyes began to close. "You always were a fighter. I'm glad you're here. Makes it easier." He sighed and his head fell to one side. His chest gradually stopped moving. Rose felt his grip go limp in her hand.

Jay was gone.

Rose moved back until she felt the wall of the tent behind her. She leaned into it and slid down until she was sitting on the ground. She stared at the still body on the bed.

He was still in uniform. His combat boots hadn't even been removed. His head rested on the flat pillow and his arms were at his sides. If not for the blood soaked bandages, he could have been just a tired soldier taking a nap.

Rose knew it was just a body. That Jay was in a better place. But it was so hard to reconcile the joking and very much alive boy that she had known with the unmoving soldier that laid on the bed.

And yet it was the same person. Jay would never again play tricks or go out to chop wood or sit around the table and laugh with Rose and her friends.

The sense of loss and grief hit Rose. She rested her head against the wall and began to cry.

"Jay." Angel moaned, startling everyone. Tears flooded down her cheeks and sobs wracked her body. Concerned, Carter grabbed her and shook her lightly.

"Angel!" He called.

Her eyes flew open and she sat up quickly, immediately regretting it as a sharp pain reverberated through her skull. She winced and put a hand to her head.

"Take it easy." Hogan commanded.

Angel leaned back against the tunnel wall. The memory had been so vivid. She felt the anguish of losing her friend all over again and she could barely contain her crying. It took her a moment to realize that everyone was staring at her worriedly.

"Sorry guys." She said weakly.

"Don't you even want to know what happened?" Carter asked.

It sunk in that she had no idea how she had gotten hurt or how she had gotten here. But in the wake of the dream, Angel didn't even care. "Not right now."

The men exchanged concerned glances.

Kinch sat down on the cot next to the girl. He guessed that the dream had something to do with her unusual behavior. "Angel, who is Jay?"

Angel took a deep breath. Instead of answering, she said. "Guys, there is one thing that every field doctor or nurse lives in constant dread of. That's having to work on someone that you know and possibly losing them. The hospital is a war zone in its own right and the memories of patients in pain or the ones you couldn't save never completely leave. But if the patient is someone you know, who you're close to… the nightmares never stop haunting you."

"That happened to you?" Hogan asked quietly.

Angel nodded and squeezed her eyes shut. "I watched while he bled to death. There was nothing I could do. We'd known each other since we were kids."

"I'm sorry." Kinch said simply.

Angel opened her eyes. "It's impossible to do what I do and be ignorant of death. But I wasn't really touched by death until Jay died. It changed me. And it never leaves me."

"Is there any way we can…" Newkirk shrugged helplessly. "Ya know… help?"

Angel managed a half-hearted smile. "No. I just need time to get over the flashback."

Colonel Hogan caught the hint. "Ok fellas. Let's let Angel rest." He stood and walked toward the tunnel exit with Newkirk close behind.

"We will see you at breakfast." LeBeau told Angel.

"Thanks LeBeau, but I might be up too late for breakfast." Angel replied.

"We will wait." The chef said simply as he left. Carter followed, flashing look at Angel that told her that he was hurting for her. Kinch gave Angel's arm a little squeeze and then left.

They had all been altered by the great tragedy that enveloped the world. They all understood that war not only changed politics and moved national boundaries, but also left its scars on individuals. They all knew that the sacrifice was necessary for futures generations to live in peace.

Angel sighed as the tunnels went silent. Every time there was a mission, she had wonder if the next time she watched a close friend die, it would Hogan or Kinch or Newkirk or Carter or LeBeau. Some people could go through life never really being touched by death, never having to think such thoughts. A vision of Jay's face flashed before her. She was not untouched.