Author's Note: A Christmas story told in Colonel Hogan's POV. The inspiration for this story was a similar story I wrote last year titled "Christmas Memories" that was posted under ANM88, a pen-name I used to write under in this fandom.
Disclaimer: Hogan's Heroes and its characters are the property of CBS/Paramount. No profit was made in the writing of this story.
A Christmas Past
Standing in my office staring out at the falling snow, I begin to reminisce about a Christmas past that seems so long ago and so far away.
It was back home in Connecticut where I lived in a small town house with my mother. The snow fell heavily there each year, bringing joy and happiness for the children who would make tall snowmen, beautiful snow angels and of course have a big snowball fight.
Even though the sun would still shine, the temperature was still cold enough not to melt the snow. The sun would shine through the trees surrounding our house and mother always commented that it was such a beautiful sight to behold.
On the morning before Christmas I would go out with shovel in hand and clear the walkway and sidewalks while mother would be inside preparing Christmas Eve dinner.
Christmas Eve dinner was always a joyous sight on my eyes as well as well as my stomach and so often I would find myself eating more than I could handle, which always brought a smile and a chuckle to mother.
Christmas morning we would both gather in the family room and exchange gifts. We couldn't afford big fancy gifts, but what we did receive always came from the heart, which mother always said was the true meaning of Christmas.
Later that morning we would walk together to the church, which was only a mile from our house. Mother loved going to church, but her most favorite time to go was on Christmas. The choir would sing Christmas songs and the pastor would give such a heartwarming speech about Christmas and what it was really about.
I always got a good laugh out of the boys who would sit next to us, fiddling with their ties or messing with the little girls' hair and bows. Mother too would chuckle, saying that it reminded her so much of me when I was a boy.
The evenings would bring peace while we sat quietly in the family room listening to Christmas melodies on the radio before both calling it a night.
If I could have one Christmas wish this year, it would be to be back home with mother. Two years I've been in Stalag 13 and for two years I've wished for the same thing for Christmas. I know mother is wishing it too.
There's something else I wish for too every year, a wish I know is shared among every man in this camp. I not only wish for myself to be home for Christmas, but for my men as well. I know they miss their families just as much as I miss mine.
It seems like such a long way away, but I know the time will come when the war will end and we will all be home with our families for Christmas once again. It's a belief that not only keeps me going, but my men as well.
In the meantime, memories of a Christmas past will have to do until we can successfully end this war and return home to our families. It will not only be a Christmas gift to them, but to ourselves and to the world for having finally ended a long and tiring world war that has taken away so much from all of us.
THE END