Author's Challenge: We all know Hogan's Heroes as the comedy show that has its setting in a World War Two POW camp in Germany. It's designed to make the audience laugh, not for historical accuracy or realism. That being said, there were real people living during this very real war that the entertainment is modeled after. My goal in this story is to get the readers to put themselves in the Stalag 13 prisoner's boots, supposing for the moment that the Hogan's Heroes world crossed with the real world. What would you miss most if you were miles from home for years, fighting a nonstop war? Where would your thoughts and prayers be? Angel and Carter discuss their answers to these questions.
Disclaimer: I own no characters except for Angel. And she says that I don't even own her. Go figure.
To Be Back Home
Angel breathed deeply of the cold, earth-scented air in the tunnel. In some ways, this was becoming like a second home. She heard a noise from up ahead and gave the whistle to signal she was coming in. It wouldn't do to surprise anyone.
The noise stopped and Olsen's head popped around the corner. "Hey there Angel!" He greeted her cheerfully.
"How's it going Olsen?" Angel replied, giving him a grin. Aside from the core team of Hogan's Heroes, Olsen was one of her favorites of the Stalag 13 prisoners.
"Not too bad." He answered. "Just finished up a week-long stay in Hammelberg."
"You know, Colonel Hogan's going to have to keep you here more often or you'll forget that you're a prisoner." Angel teased.
"Not a chance." Olsen returned. "It's not all fun and games outside the wire."
By this time, Angel had come up alongside the man and gave him a slap on the shoulder. "Yeah, I know. I'm the other 'outside guy.' Remember?"
"Yeah, I guess so. How're the German lessons coming along?"
"Terrible. I get a sore throat if I practice for too long. Why couldn't German have been a smoother language like Spanish or French?"
"You'll have to take that up with the ancient Romans." Olsen told her.
Angel cocked an eyebrow at this bit of linguistics knowledge. Olsen was certainly full of surprises. "No thanks. Some of those guys were almost as nuts as the Germans. Anybody around?" She asked to change the subject.
"Kinch is in the radio room. Carter's in his lab, I think." Olsen shook his head. "Although it's funny. Nothing has exploded yet."
"Maybe Carter's having a good day." Angel suggested.
"Or a bad one." Olsen countered. "Gotta get going. There's a soccer game on in a few minutes."
"In that case, I'd better hang around." Angel rolled her eyes. "You guys get pretty intense in your games."
"Hey, we're soldiers with no fighting to do." Olsen defended his fellow POWs. "Give us a break." He turned and walked towards the ladder.
"Catch you later." Angel called after him and headed for the radio room. She found Kinch staring in concentration as he listened through his headphones and wrote something on a pad of paper. Angel hung back quietly, waiting for her friend to finish his task. He finally sighed and removed the headset.
"How goes the war?" Angel asked, coming to stand beside him.
"'Bout the same, I guess." Kinch answered. "We keep fighting. They keep fighting."
"We'll win in the end." Angel said, absentmindedly playing with a pen on the table. "Any news from…"
"The war on the Aleutians?" Kinch interrupted. It was the same question she always asked. "Sorry Angel. Nothing new." He shot her a sympathetic smile.
"Well, I didn't really expect it. I mean, how good of a news service can I expect, way over here in Germany?" The joke fell flat. Angel was longing for news from her home and it showed.
"Missing home?" Kinch asked, looking up at her.
"Like crazy." Angel replied. "Sometimes I think this war is never going to be over."
"Hey, we're going to win in the end, remember?" Kinch said encouragingly.
"Yep, it's just hard to keep that in sight when I'm not actually over there fighting it out." Angel admitted. "Boy, I sound pretty pitiful, huh?"
"You'll make it." Kinch gave her a soft punch in the arm. "And you don't sound half as bad as Carter."
"Yeah? Is he pretty down too?"
"Just in the last couple of days." Kinch told Angel. "We all get bit by the homesickness bug pretty hard every once in a while. Think you could try to cheer him up?" He was carefully setting both of them up, hoping that a conversation would snap both Carter and Angel out of this unexpected bout of dejection.
"I could at least offer some sympathy." Angel gave a little smile. "I'm not sure how helpful it would be."
"Give it a shot." Kinch nodded towards Carter's little niche in the tunnel.
"Ok. See ya later." Angel tossed back over her shoulder as she moved towards the lab. Olsen had been right. It was unusually quiet. So quiet that Angel felt compelled to knock on a support beam to announce her presence. She peeked into the room and saw Carter sitting on a bench, staring off into space.
"Hey Carter!" Angel said, trying to keep her voice bright. "What's up?"
Carter glanced up. "Nothing much, I guess." His usually energetic tone was lacking.
Angel crossed the room and sat down beside him on the bench. "Bad day, huh."
Carter shrugged. "Not more than usual."
Angel let the silence stretch, not sure how to go about cheering someone up when her own thoughts were drawn continually to home.
"Angel, do you ever imagine what's going on at home?" Carter said suddenly.
"Yeah, all the time." Angel gave the sergeant a sad smile. "In my mind, I can still see our nice little cabin and my dog sleeping in the yard and my little siblings running all over the place. I can even see the trails through the forest and up the mountains that I hike."
"Boy, do I ever know what that feels like." Carter said, with a little more of his normal enthusiasm. "I can see our farm and the streets in our little town and the dirt roads between the fields…" his voice drifted off. "Sure wish I could be back there."
"Me too." Angel agreed. "But then again, if I was back there, I know it would mean not being able to help the war effort from here. I'm not sure that would be any better."
"You got a point there." Carter agreed. He was silent for a few moments. "I guess that's just what really bothers me. Not being able to go back, I mean. It's like home is right there, but I just can't make myself reach out and grab it. I couldn't leave the guys and our operations here. But sometimes I wish I could just make it all stop so I can go back."
"Wouldn't we all like to make it stop." Angel said wryly.
"I sure hope things are pretty much the same when the war finally ends." Carter continued.
"I don't think everything will be like it was before the war. War just changes things. But the important things will be there. Family. Home. Freedom."
"Yeah, but I've got these memories, see, and I want to go back and do them again after I get home." Carter's face had taken on a boyish grin. "Like walking to the general store and getting candy. Or riding to my grandparent's house for holidays. Or just being able to take my motorcycle out for a spin without having to ask anyone's permission." His expression fell again and Angel noticed.
"Aw Carter. I'm sure you'll be able to do those things again." Angel comforted him. It reminded her of talking to one of her little brothers when they were upset. "The war can't last forever. And it will be worth all the time we spend here when we get back home. You've got to remember that."
"I guess what we're doing is pretty important." Carter said slowly. "I just can't help but remember."
"Keep remembering." Angel encouraged. "It'll make it that much sweeter when you go home."
"Hey, that's right." Carter said, casting off his depression. "And then it'll feel really good knowing that I did something good while I was away."
"Exactly." Angel smiled.
Carter's next question was totally unexpected. "So, what do you worry about most while you're here?"
If Angel had thought that the cheering up was going to be totally one-sided, the impression was blown away with Carter's question. "Well, I guess I mostly worry about people." She said slowly.
Carter may have been the most innocent and even clueless of the group, but it was a mistake to think that he didn't notice when his friends were struggling with something. "Who do you worry about?"
Angel sighed. "I worry about the people I know might have been drafted and sent off to fight. My brother is old enough. He'll probably enlist. And I've got friends, even adopted uncles, who will have to leave their families to go fight. I worry about them getting hurt or killed and not being able to come back home to see them. I worry about their wives and kids. The worst part is not knowing for sure where they are or what they're doing."
"That would be really hard." Carter nodded in sympathy. "Do you ever worry about the folks who stay back home?"
Angel shrugged and half-smiled. "No, mostly I just miss them. I've got two little adopted cousins who are growing up without me. What I wouldn't give just to be able to hold my little buddy and give him one last squeeze before he's not a baby anymore." She felt her throat constrict as the picture of the dark-eyed eight-month-old flashed into her mind.
"I know what you mean." Carter said. "But I always figured that it would be better to give them a reason to be proud of me when I get home. And they'll still be there when I get back. I mean, that why we're fighting, right? To make sure they're safe?" It may have been idealistic, but it was also true in one sense.
"Yeah, you're right. I sure don't want my little cousins growing up in a world run by madmen like Ole' Bubblebrain." Angel managed a glimmer of a smile. "That goes for my friends and family in the service too. I'm proud of them for doing what they are doing. And their safety is in a lot bigger hands than mine."
"Kinda makes you stop and think, doesn't it." Carter said thoughtfully.
"Sure does." Angel looked over at the sergeant. "You know Carter, it felt pretty good to get that off my chest. You make an ok counselor, even if you do specialize as an agent of mass, explosive destruction."
"Well thanks a lot." Carter sounded genuinely irked, the compliment having gone right over his head.
Angel laughed and smacked at his hat. "The war just wouldn't be the same without you."
