Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. At one point, I think they belonged to Bing Crosby Productions.

"Raus, raus!" The gruff voice of barrel-bodied Sergeant Schulz broke into a number of pleasant dreams, serving as a poor substitute for an alarm clock for the men in the barracks. Groans and quiet mutters rebounded his way.

A sleepy Corporal Newkirk muttered, "Just five more minutes, mum."

"I am sorry, Corporal Newkirk," began Schultz in a friendly voice, "but I am not your mother and it is time for roll call."

"Thank heavens you aren't me mum. Otherwise I would wonder what my father was thinking!" Men still in the barracks dressing or who had not gotten out the door chuckled.

"Pah! Jolly jokers! Out with you all, now!" Schultz responded in an annoyed tone.

"Come on, men, you heard the Sergeant, it's time to fall in. Let's go," responded Colonel Hogan. More muttering followed as the men filed out and lined up.

As usual, it was a crisp day, but at least the sun was shining through the partly cloudy sky, giving the men a small bit of cheer, much needed while imprisoned in this camp hundreds and thousands of miles from their loved ones on the other side of the front. Schultz finger-counted every man twice to make sure they were there, his task somewhat complicated by soft mutters from the men of numbers in English, like "37!" and "14", all designed to throw off his concentration. But the German stuck to his counting doggedly, and reached the desired number. "Good, you are all here."

Schultz turned around in time to see Colonel Klink walking down the steps towards the prisoners, pulling his gloves on snugly to keep his hands warm. "Report, Schultz", Klink said in a bored voice.

"All prisoners present and accounted for, Kommandant", said Schultz rather happily, with a small smile on his face.

"Very well, Schultz. Dis-missed!" He snapped a salute off at the Sergeant, turned around, and walked back into his office.

The men broke up, and Hogan went back into the barracks. He grabbed the coffeepot and poured it into a mug. Even cold (or, at least lukewarm from being on the stove all night) it would still have some effect to help wake him up. "You got in pretty late last night, Colonel." Sergeant Kincheloe's statement was not a question.

"Yeah". The colonel took a sip and grimaced, then yawned. "The meeting with the Underground wasn't really any longer than normal. But I had a devil of a time with German patrols last night. Seemed like every Kraut between Berlin and the Western Front was in my way last night."

"Oh, yeah. We've all had nights like that trying to get back here. Well, I'm just glad you got back here in one piece."

"Me, too. At least none of the patrols had dogs with him." He took another sip. "Anyway, I found out from our contacts that Hochstetter has had additional men transferred into this area. Unfortunately, they didn't know any more than that."

"Well, I can't say that's a surprise exactly, Colonel. Every once in a while, we bust his chops so much he calls in the extra help to catch us…then after a few days without results and us lying low, they get sent back wherever they come from. It's a wonder he doesn't get reprimanded for wasting so much fuel transporting them back and forth."

"Yeah, that's for certain."

The barracks door opened, letting some nippy air in the room. "Pardon moi, mon Ker-nel."

"What is it, LeBeau?"

The petite Frenchman frowned. "Prisoner transfer. And it looks like Major Hochstetter is with them."

Hogan's eyebrows shot up. "Hochstetter is escorting prisoners? Hmm…that might explain the newest transfers. Thanks, Corporal".

Pushing his coffee cup aside, Hogan and Kinch stood up and made their way to the door.

Sure enough, in addition to the motorcycles with sidecars stuffed with Luftwaffe soldiers leading and trailing the transport truck, Hochstetter was climbing out of his staff car. Puzzled, Hogan decided to go find out what was going on.

"Good morning, Major Hochstetter. I didn't realize you had transferred into the Luftwaffe. Are things going so badly for the Third Reich that the Luftwaffe had to absorb the Gestapo just to have enough manpower to escort prisoners?"

The vainglorious German sneered. "The war is going just fine for the Third Reich, Colonel Hogan. I am escorting a prisoner from Stalag Five to make certain he does not escape. Escapes during transfers have been happening more often lately, and I intend to put a stop to it. If I am here, there is no way you can interfere", he said with an evil smile.

"Interfere with a prisoner transfer?" Hogan pretended to be affronted, and put his hands on his hips, with his elbows out at an angle to further emphasize his pose. "Major, I'm locked up here in your chicken coop. What makes you think I could get out and free prisoners?"

"There are too many unusual things that happen around here, Colonel Hogan. I am quite certain you are behind them. It is only a matter of time before you slip up and get caught in the act."

"But I'm a prisoner of war! You can ask Colonel Klink. I've never successfully escaped. There has never been a successful escape at Stalag Thirteen since the Iron Eagle took command."

"Pah! Iron Eagle? More like Ironhead. That fool always recites his escape-free record like…what do you Americans say…a broken record. Come with me." The major moved purposefully into the Kommandant's office, leaving Hogan little choice but to follow.

Inside, Hogan waggled his fingers in a friendly wave at the colonel's secretary, Hilda. "Hello, beautiful. How are you doing this morning?" He grinned at her.

"I am just fine, Colonel. And how are you?"

"I'm doing fabulous. I recommend everyone should come here for a vacation at Klink's health spa."

Hilda grinned in spite of herself. "Somehow I do not believe you, Colonel."

Before he could respond, Hochstetter shouted at him. "Colonel Hogan, we are waiting!" Hogan simply smiled a smile that could melt an iceberg at Klink's secretary and entered the office.

As he walked in, Klink said, "Thank you for joining us, Colonel Hogan", in a patient voice.

"My pleasure, Colonel", he quipped. "What's up?"

"As I was trying to explain to Colonel Klink", Hochstetter said, grimacing, "I am personally escorting this prisoner from Stalag Five to Stalag Thirteen--".

"Oh, well, he's here now. You've done your job. You can go back to your office now," said Hogan in a helpful voice.

"Do not interrupt me, Hogan! I have personally escorted this prisoner to make sure that your Underground does not rescue him."

"It is not my Underground, Major."

"Perhaps you do not own it, but you have influence with it. You participate in rescues and acts of sabotage with them."

"Oh, come on now! I'm just a humble prisoner of war. There has never been a successful escape from Stalag Thirteen since the Iron Eagle took command here!"

"That is right", began Klink, pumped up and smiling at the Iron Eagle reference. "There have been no successful escapes--"

"Klink! Shut up about your record!" interrupted Hochstetter.

"Yes, Major", said a chastened Klink.

"Now, as I was saying. I am escorting the prisoner from Stalag Five to Stalag Thirteen--"

"You already said that, Major. You HAVE escorted the prisoner here from the other Stalag."

"HOGAN! GET OUT!" sputtered the Gestapo officer.

"What? Why? You invited me here to your little party."

"HOGANNNNNN!!!!!!!"

"Colonel Hogan, if you please…" Klink spoke softly, indicating the door.

"Oh, okay, sure thing, Colonel. All you had to do was ask." He gave Klink a friendly smile, got up, and walked out the door, back to the outer office.

Shutting the door behind him, Hogan walked up behind Hilda, busily typing away. "Hello, beautiful", he said playfully.

"You should not push the Major so, Colonel. You know he is Gestapo."

"Yes, I know, but he is so fun to play with." Hogan smiled broadly. "I'll see you later. Have a good morning."

"You too, Colonel."

Hogan exited the office and strolled over to where Newkirk and Carter were playing catch with Carter's baseball. He nodded at them to follow him, and they walked into the barracks where LeBeau and Kinch were sitting at the table.

Noticing a fresh pot of coffee, Hogan helped himself to a cup. "Wish I had some aspirin," he said as he swallowed, wincing. "I always forget just how LOUD Hochstetter is."

"What's going on, Colonel?" asked Kinch, ever ready for business.

"Well, it seems as though Hochstetter's got a bee in his bonnet about our coming out parties during prisoner transfers. He wants to make sure nothing happens while they are under his care." He paused, a thoughtful look in his eye. "And that's how we're going to do it."

"Uh, Colonel, do what?" asked Sergeant Carter.

"Why, help him give them all the care that they actually need, of course."

"Of course," said the young sergeant. "Um, what do they actually need?"

"To go home. With a little help from the Major, although he doesn't realize it, of course."

"Of course", said Carter, more confused than ever.

"Tomorrow, a truck is going to come through the gates. The driver will have paperwork from Hochstetter transferring the prisoner to Stalag Six. Of course, he won't be going to Stalag Six."

"Begging the Colonel's pardon, but how in the bloody hell are we going to get a truck?"

"Kinch, you will 'fix' a truck tomorrow morning. Then, you will have to insist to take it for a test drive, with Schultz guarding you. Inside, 'Sergeants' Newkirk and LeBeau and 'Gestapo Captain' Carter will be waiting with the appropriate paperwork. A mile outside of camp, you'll stop. You'll check something in the back, and come back with the strudel."

"Strudel? What strudel?"

"Why, the strudel you'll bake tomorrow while Kinch is 'fixing' the truck."

"Mon dieu, uniforms AND strudel!" muttered LeBeau.

"Kinch will give Schultz the strudel. Kinch and Schultz will wait by the side of the road while Newkirk and Carter drive the truck back to camp. Inside, they will present the paperwork, signed by Hochstetter himself, to Klink. I'll be there to help Klink 'confirm' that it is Hochstetter's paperwork. Newkirk will drive the truck back to Kinch and Schultz, while Carter rides in back. Newkirk climbs in the back, while the prisoner 'escapes'. A member of the Underground will be waiting off the side of the road to help them. Kinch and Schultz will get back in the truck, and come back to the camp. Simple as that".

"Yeah, boy, that's simple," said Carter enthusiastically. "Uh, sir, that is."

"I'll go talk to our guest. Hochstetter is probably gone by now." Hogan walked over to the door. "Yep, they're all gone now."

The next day was overcast, threatening rain. LeBeau started making the strudel right after roll call. When it was nearly ready, he nodded to Kinch. Kinch wandered over to Schultz. "Hello, Sergeant. Do you know if they fixed that truck yet?"

"Truck? What truck?"

"The truck in the motorpool".

"I did not know that the truck in the motorpool needed repair."

"Well, it does. It probably hasn't been fixed yet. Shall I go check on it?"

"Yes, by all means. And I will accompany you to make sure there is no funny business."

Kinch shrugged. "Suit yourself, Sergeant." He walked over to the truck, while Schultz waddled after him. He propped up the hood, looked, and shook his head. "No, they didn't get to it yet. It looks like it will take about 15-20 minutes. Why don't you get in the cab and relax? Take a load off your feet. If you are in the cab, then nobody can steal the truck."

"An excellent idea, Sergeant Kinch-uh-loe". Schultz eagerly climbed in the cab and quickly fell asleep.

As soon as Schultz was snoring, Kinch looked around the side of the truck. He saw Carter and Newkirk standing by the barracks door, talking. As he watched, he saw LeBeau emerge, carrying the strudel. LeBeau walked nonchalantly over to the back of the truck and climbed in. As he did so, the aroma of the strudel wafted towards Schultz, whose nostrils twitched and he smiled, muttering in his sleep, "Ah, strudel!"

Shortly thereafter, Carter and Newkirk made their way over to the back of the truck and climbed in. The uniforms were already inside, placed in the back earlier that morning by Wilson. They quickly changed, and rapped on the wall of the truck when they were ready.

Kinch slammed the hood shut, waking up Schultz. "Okay, Sergeant, it's already. Let's take it for a spin."

"A spin? What is that?"

"A spin. You know, a test drive."

"Ach, of course. I shall take it for a drive myself. You shall wait here."

"But I should go and drive it myself. If something were to go wrong, would you really know how to fix it?"

"Oh, yes, well, in that case, by all means, please drive." He took a deep breath. "Strudel? Why do I smell strudel?"

"You are imagining it, Schultz. You were dreaming about it and talking in your sleep about it, so you are imagining it now."

"Oh, of course, how silly of me. Dreams can be powerful things."

"Yes they can, Schultz. Yes they can."

Kinch drove the truck out the main gate, only needing a little push by Schultz to order the guards to let them out. He drove off to the right of the gate and out of sight of the camp.

When he got to the big boulder about a mile down the road, he stopped and turned the motor off. "Why did you stop, Sergeant?"

"Shh. Didn't you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"A noise from the back".

"I didn't hear anything."

"Well, I did. I'll go check it out."

"No. You stay here. I'll go check it out."

"Do you know how to fix anything that might be wrong back there?"

"Uh, no, I don't. So go check it out, Sergeant."

"If you say so, Schultz". Kinch got out and went around the back. "Okay, time for the strudel, Lebeau."

"Here you go, Kinch."

"Thanks, LeBeau".

He walked around to the passenger side of the truck. "Hey, Schultz, would you look at what I found!"

"What is it, Kinch?" Schultz gasped. "A strudel! I was not dreaming! Where did it come from?"

"I don't know. It was in the back of the truck."

"What was it doing there?"

"I don't know. Hmm. Looks good, doesn't it?"

"Yes it does. Ahem. Are you hungry, Sergeant?"

"Why, no, thank you, I'm not hungry Schultz. Are you?"

"Well, I could do with a little snack."

"Here, go for it."

"Thank you, I will."

"Oh, why don't you come sit on this rock? It will be easier to eat that way, instead of all cooped up inside of the truck."

"Good idea, Sergeant". Schultz heaved himself out of the truck and walked over to the boulder. He sat down, and started to eat. "Mmmm. This is so delicious. It reminds me of those wonderful strudels that Corporal LeBeau so kindly makes for me." He closed his eyes, and savored the taste.

"Yes, I'm sure it does, Schultz."

While Schultz's eyes were closed, Newkirk and Carter quietly climbed out of the truck and walked up to Schultz.

Carter exclaimed in a loud voice, "Sergeant! What are you doing here?!?"

Guiltily, Schultz jumped up and said, "Why, nothing, Captain!"

"I can see that, dumbkopf! I need to borrow your truck. I trust it is in good working order?"

"Why, yes it is, Captain".

"Good. I will be back soon. Do not leave this spot or you shall be sent to the Eastern Front."

"The Eastern Front??? Nein, I will not leave this spot!"

Carter and Newkirk climbed in the truck's cab. Newkirk turned the truck around, and headed back towards camp.

"What shall I do now?" muttered Schultz.

"Why not finish the strudel?" said Kinch.

"The strudel? Ah, a great idea, Sergeant". Schultz dug back into the strudel again.

Meanwhile, Carter and Newkirk arrived back in camp. Hogan had been hanging outside Klink's office waiting for them. When the truck pulled into the camp, he went inside. Smiling at Hilda, he walked directly into Klink's office.

As usual, Klink was hunched over some paperwork. "What is it Schultz?"

"Oh, it's not Schultz, it's me."

"I am busy, Hogan", Klink said in a tired voice. "I have much paperwork to do and I didn't sleep well the last two nights."

"I'm sorry to hear that, sir, I hope you aren't coming down with anything."

"So do I Hogan. Now, what was it that you wanted?"

"Oh, I just wanted to tell you a truck pulled into the camp with a Gestapo officer inside."

"Gestapo?" Klink's voice took on a tremor. "Here? Now? What do they want?" He looked worried.

"Oh, I'm sure I don't know."

At that moment, 'Captain' Carter stormed into the room. "Are you Colonel Wilhelm Klink?" he roared.

"Y-yes, I am," stammered the now-terrified commandant.

Carter reached into his uniform. Klink blanched, afraid of what the 'captain' was going to pull out. He was visibly relieved when the hand emerged merely holding paperwork. "Prisoner transfer, Klink".

"Very good, I am always happy to assist the Gestapo. May I see the…" Klink was cut off when Carter thrust the papers at him.

"I see. Lieutenant Roddenberry? But, but he just arrived yesterday…"

"It does not matter, Klink!" shouted the fake Gestapo man. "Do you not see Major Hochstetter's signature on the form??"

Trembling, Klink looked down at the papers. "Y-yes, it looks like his signature…"

"It does not just look like his signature, it is!" roared Carter once more.

"May I see, sir?" said Hogan helpfully. "Yes, there it is, I'd recognize it anywhere."

"Who is this man????" shouted Carter.

"Senior prisoner of war Colonel Robert Hogan. He was just leaving."

"Yes, I was just leaving. While Colonel Klink signs the papers, I'll go get him. He'll be with you in a moment. Shall we meet your at your truck?"

"Immediately, Hogan!"

"Yes, sir. Always happy to assist the Gestapo", deadpanned Hogan, while borrowing Klink's earlier line.

Hogan hurriedly walked over to the barracks and went inside. "Lieutenant, grab your stuff. Your ride home is here."

"My ride…home?"

"Yeah, no questions, come on."

A stunned man stumbled out of the barracks behind Hogan. They quickly made their way over to the truck, where the 'captain' was waiting. "Captain, may I present American prisoner of war Lieutenant Eugene W. Roddenberry."

"Enough niceties, Colonel. You, Lieutenant, in the back of the truck. Driver, let's go".

Newkirk rolled his eyes. "Take it easy, Andrew", he muttered under his breath. Climbing in, he started the truck and they drove off towards the gate.

A few minutes later, Schultz had just finished up the strudel when the truck pulled up next to them. "Sergeant, I return your truck to you. Don't tell anyone."

"No, Captain! I will not!" Schultz stood at his best attention, dropping the strudel pan.

Carter seemed to ignore the strudel pan as Kinch and Schultz climbed in, and Kinch turned the truck around. When Schultz's view was blocked, Newkirk hustled the lieutenant off the road, into the trees where a member of the Underground waited to help get him to the coast. Then, Carter grabbed the pan and climbed in, with Newkirk right behind him. "Here's your pan, LeBeau."

"Thanks, Andrew".

The three prisoners quickly changed out of their German uniforms and back into their regular Allied outfits.

After returning through the gate, Kinch drove into the motorpool and parked. "Well, I think we can safely say it works, right, Schultz?"

"Yes, that is right, Sergeant. It does indeed work."

Kinch walked back to the barracks with Schultz, drumming his fingers on the wall of the truck, signaling to his cohorts that all was clear. After a minute, Carter climbed out, followed by Newkirk and LeBeau. Wilson would come by an hour or so later to retrieve the uniforms.

Once he saw the three near the barracks, Hogan decided to finish the little charade. He barged into Klink's office, barely noticing that Hilda was out of the office at the moment. "Hi, Colonel".

"What is it now, Hogan?"

"Oh, I just wondered if you had called Hochstetter to let him know that the transfer went well."

"As a matter of fact, I was just about to make the call." Klink picked up the phone and called to the Gestapo headquarters in Hamelburg. "Major Hochstetter? This is Colonel Klink…yes, I just wanted to inform you the prisoner transfer went fine. Hmm? What prisoner transfer? The one you authorized for the prisoner you brought in yesterday. I have the form right here with your signature on it. … Oh. I see. What? Oh, yes, Heil…" Klink suddenly looked as though he had seen a ghost.

"Colonel? You don't look very good. What did the Major say?"

"He…he claimed to know nothing of it. He said…he said he is coming here to look at the paperwork. And then he told me I better pack some warm clothes."

"Warm clothes? Why?"

"Because he was going to send me to the Eastern Front".

The door opened. Schultz walked in. "Herr Colonel, I wish to.."

"What now, Schultz?"

"Herr Colonel, I wish to report that the truck in the motorpool is now fixed. Sergeant Kinch-uh-loe repaired it, and we took it for a test drive."

"Fine, whatever. Wait…Kinchloe was out of the camp?"

"Jawohl, Colonel. He drove, and I supervised."

"Dumbkopf! The prisoners are not supposed to leave the camp unless under guard!"

"But sir, I…"

"KLINK!!!!" Klink paled at the sound of Hochstetter's voice.

"M-M-Major?"

"Show me the paperwork, Klink!"

Gingerly, he picked it up and handed it to Hochstetter. "I … I thought it was your signature…."

"Idiot! Why would I sign something like that…huh? What is my signature doing on this piece of paper?"

"That's what I asked him, Major!"

"Klink! What is this man doing here???"

"Hogan, what are you doing here?"

"Well, I…"

The door opened again, and the room became full of people as General Albert Burkhalter made his
way inside.

"Klink, you need a bigger office."

"General Burkhalter, sir!" Klink's monocle popped out.

"Hello, General! How's your sister?" chimed in Hogan.

"She is doing fine, Colonel Hogan. What are you doing here?"

"Trying to help Colonel Klink resolve a dispute with Major Hochstetter."

"I don't need your help, Hogan."

"You will need his help to pack to go to the Eastern Front, Klink", sneered Hochstetter.

"That is why I am here, Major Hochstetter. I came to ask you why you are taking troops that are desperately needed on the Eastern Front."

"To guard prisoners being transferred. The Underground is helping them escape and Colonel Hogan is a member of the Hogan."

"How can I be a member of the Underground, General Burkhalter? I'm a prisoner of war here. And you know Colonel Klink's record. There have been no successful escapes here under the Iron Eagle."

"Yes, that's right, since I took command of this camp---"

"Shut up, Klink!"

"Shutting up, sir."

"But there must have been an escape! A prisoner I brought here yesterday left today and has disappeared!"

"Do you have proof he's disappeared, Major?"

"I have this signed paper with my signature on it!"

"You signed this paper?"

"Yes. No! I mean no! I did not sign it. But it is my signature. I don't know how it got on there."

"Did you sign it, Major?"

"No, I didn't."

"But it's your signature?"

"Yes, it is."

"You sound confused, Major. Do you need a vacation, perhaps?" quipped Hogan.

"I don't need a vacation!"

"Perhaps you DO need a vacation, Major. On the Eastern Front, perhaps?"

Hochstetter paled. "Um, perhaps I do need a vacation. Maybe a couple of days in Switzerland…"

"Yes, that is a good idea, Major. Why don't you go pack, now?"

"Yesss…I think I will go pack. Thank you, sir. Heil Hitler".

Burkhalter and Klink responded automatically.

"I'll leave you two alone now. Please give my regards to your sister, General."

"Thank you, Hogan. I shall." Burkhalter turned to Klink. "Now, Klink, about my sister…" As Hogan walked out the door, he distinctly heard Klink gasp.

March 23, 1968. Berlin….

U. S. Ambassador to West Germany Robert Hogan sat in his chair, drinking a brandy and waiting for some television show to start that Kinch had suggested he might like. It had been airing for a year and a half in the States.

A commercial ended, and theme music began. Title credits popped up on the screen…

Star Trek

Created by Gene Roddenberry

Hogan frowned. Roddenberry? Why does that name seem familiar?