Summary: The sequel/ prequel to Blood and Water; the story of the Falcons and their top-secret mission in Paris.
Author's Notes: * * * * * denotes time passing, ~~~~~~ denotes a flashback, ~" "~ denotes German being spoken, italics are words in foreign languages. The word leth-aon means 'twin' in Gaelic.
Disclaimer: The recognizable Hogan's Heroes characters are not mine, but all other characters are original creations. The story in the prologue is a continuation of Episode #65: D-Day at Stalag 13, written by Richard M. Powell and directed by Gene Reynolds. The remainder of the story, however, diverts from the Hogan's Heroes universe; it is meant to be an original work of fiction, and should be read as such. Additionally, the story Blood and Water should be read before this story, otherwise there are many things that may not make sense.
Feedback:Feedback is always welcome, as is constructive criticism.
Chaos reigned in the Kommandant's office. The telephone was ringing off the hook, asking for someone, anyone, to give orders concerning what should be done about the Allied invasion of France. The man who was supposed to be giving those orders, General von Scheider, was off searching desperately for his wife, Lilli, who had mysteriously disappeared. The man who thought he was supposed to be giving those orders, Colonel Klink, was wishing desperately that he could mysteriously disappear right about now. The other members of the German General Staff were trying desperately to keep from mysteriously disappearing when this whole fiasco was over. All in all, it was a miserable night to be a German at Stalag 13.
The same, however, could not be said for the camp's Allied prisoners. Though many of them were sound asleep and dreaming of home, in the tunnel below Barracks 2, seven men were in the midst of a celebration.
"Here's to another successful mission!" First Lieutenant Kieran Kincaid, Royal Air Force, raised his wine glass in a toast.
"No matter how bizarre it may have been," Sergeant James Kinchloe, Army Air Corps, chimed in with a wry glance at his commanding officer.
"I'll drink to that!" Colonel Robert Hogan, Senior Officer of the prisoners of war at Stalag 13, said with a laugh as he drained his glass. "Who'd have thought it was possible to tie up the German General Staff and secure a victory for the Allies on the beaches of Normandy from inside a German prison camp?"
"Well sir," Kinch replied, "we've done the impossible so many times, I'm beginning to think there isn't any job London can throw at us that you won't find a way to pull off."
Hogan laughed. " The only problem with that is that I think London believes it too. Let's only hope they keep our position here in perspective and give us a break until the heat's off Klink for impersonating a Chief of Staff."
The men all agreed to this, then started in on vigorous speculation about what would happen to Klink and the General Staff when Berlin got word of what had happened. The discussion was in full swing when Kieran noticed that one of their number was being uncharacteristically silent. He broke away from the circle and walked over to the barrel on which his identical twin, Liam, was sitting, his drink nearly untouched.
"What's wrong, leth-aon? Today's a day to celebrate! We've invaded France!"
Liam looked up, his face pensive and sad. "I was jes' thinkin' about all the men that must have died today. Ah can't seem to get that report on casualty extrapolations out o' me mind, Kier."
Kier put an arm around his brother's shoulders and reassured him, "Ah'm sure they knew the risks as well as we did, Li. It's war, after all. We all know the risks, goin' into this game. An' you know as well as I do that Normandy was our best bet, regardless of the casualty count. We're no more responsible than the men who make the command decisions."
"Ah know that," Liam's voice was resigned as he turned away, "but that doesn't help much."
"Well, then let's raise a toast to those brave men tonight, because we know that their deaths were not in vain. It would do great honor to their memory." Kier pulled on his twin's arm like a small child. "Now come and join the party, leth-aon! Celebrate for those who can't tonight. Whaddya say?"
"Aye, alright," Liam hopped off the barrel, a glint of his old good humor present in his bright green eyes. The twins returned to the other men and lent their voices to the rising conversation.
An hour or so later, as the discussions were dying down, Liam took the initiative and raised his glass. "A toast… to all the brave men who fought at Normandy today."
"Here, here!"
Then, LeBeau spoke up as well, with a reverent glance at each of the Kincaids in turn. "I propose a toast to the Falcons, for being instrumental in the liberation of my homeland not once, but twice."
The rousing accolades following this toast caused the twins to blush bright red, which made everyone laugh. They accepted LeBeau's toast with sincere thanks.
Once the noise had died down again, Newkirk spoke up. "It just occurred to me that you fellas have never told us wot you did in France that was so bloody important to the invasion. Would you mind enlightening us all, or is it classified military information?"
The twins looked at each other, uncertain for a moment. Then, Liam said, "Well, since it's done now, we might as well tell them, eh, Kier? It'd make for a good story."
Kieran rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then broke into a big smile as he agreed. "Aye, why not? It canna hurt any. But I suggest ye all get comfortable, boyos, for 'tis a rather long tale."
"I'd say we've got plenty of time for a good story," Hogan said as he looked at his watch. "It's at least seven hours until roll call, and I doubt anyone will come looking for us tonight. So carry on, please."
Kieran waited patiently as all the men found comfortable seats inside the tunnel. Then, he and Liam perched themselves on barrels and he began the story. "We left Dublin last March for London to receive our final orders, stopping one last time on the way to say farewell to an old friend…"