Disappointment


Stalag 13 was considered a unique camp among those who knew of it. It was one of the smallest prison camps in Germany (if not the smallest) and one of the few camps left that had yet to have an escape. This was considered a miracle among miracles especially to those who knew its Kommandant (and some on the Russian Front were left wondering if all of Germany's good luck was being used to keep that camp escape-proof).

Of course, what most did not know was that Stalag 13 was no ordinary prison camp. In truth it was a secret traveler's aid society focused on getting other prisoners out of Germany.

Or at least it was for the first few months.

Colonel Hogan quickly realized that there was more he could do to aid the Allies than just helping escaping airmen. He had considered sabotage for a long time, but it wasn't until Stalag 13 got its newest prisoner, a seemingly harmless chemist, that his dream of sabotage started becoming a reality.

Tech Sergeant Andrew Carter quickly assimilated himself into Barracks 2. His energy and optimism was a nice balance to some of the more cynical prisoners in Barracks 2, and his odd naivety (that everyone quickly learned to never mistake for stupidity) made him a fun target for harmless teasing, which he never minded (if he noticed it). He also had the dubious honor of the happiest prisoner in Stalag 13 (maybe even Germany), for he always seemed to be in high spirits no matter the day or weather. Of course, it was fair to remember that even the happiest person always had an off day…


Stalag 13
Octorber 8
th 1942
1400 Hours

"I'm telling you there's something not right with him," Newkirk said, peering out of the barracks window from the top of his bunk. His target was across the compound helping out some of the others with camp "gardening". Sure Carter looked happy enough, but Newkirk was absolutely certain that the melancholy look in his eyes was still there, "He just looks so…disappointed."

"Uh-huh," Kinch nodded not looking up at his friend. Sitting at the table writing a letter, Kinch had little interest in Newkirk's continuous insistence that something was bothering Carter. This was probably why Newkirk was still talking. Everyone else was either busy or fed up with his seeing something that wasn't there. Sure, Carter wasn't his usual bundle of endless energy, but that was nothing alarming. The weather had been grey and wet for weeks, and Kinch figured it was finally starting to affect him too. He couldn't get rid of Newkirk so easily though, so he just settled for nodding at the right places while writing his letter.

"And if I'm talking to him, his mind is somewhere else entirely," Newkirk continued, either oblivious to Kinch's disinterest or satisfied that he wasn't kicked out yet, "I know that's nothin' new, but his spacing out is getting ridiculous, even for him!"

"Right," Kinch flipped his paper over. Newkirk gave him an odd look before adding,

"And when he looks at you, it's like you drowned his goldfish." That got Kinch's attention. He gave Newkirk an unimpressed look.

"Drowned his goldfish? Really?"

"At least you're finally listening."

"I was always listening," Kinch set his pen down and got up to stretch for a bit, "I think you're just paranoid." The weather had caused a temporary shutdown of operations, leading to bouts of restlessness and boredom. Kinch was impressed Newkirk even behaved as long as he did.

"Who's being paranoid?" It was at that moment that Colonel Hogan reentered the barracks with LeBeau. "And about what?" His tone was light, but it was clear that he was already considering all kinds of unpleasant possibilities.

"Newkirk about Carter," Kinch explained quickly, "He says that Carter looks like we drowned his fish." Now it was Hogan's turn to give Newkirk an incredulous look.

"How do you drown a fish?" LeBeau asked frowning.

"With water," Newkirk retorted, "And all I meant was that he looks like something's really bothering him."

"Really? I didn't notice anything," Hogan frowned and looked out the window himself. He could vaguely make out Carter from the other men working on Klink's garden. He was talking to Mills, a smile on his face. "He looks alright to me." LeBeau looked out as well and nodded.

"If something was bothering him before, he's fine now," the Frenchman assured Newkirk, "Maybe it's just the weather."

"Or maybe he's really upset about something and just hiding it," Newkirk snapped.

"So just go and ask him then," LeBeau countered raising his voice as well.

Before their voice reached the level of a full-blown argument, Hogan stepped it, ordering them both to calm down.

"Alright, settle down, both of you," he said firmly, "There is a very easy way to solve this problem." Without explaining what it was, he walked over to the door, opened it, and called out Carter's name, waving him over. The tech sergeant bounded over, covered in dirt.

"What's up, sir?"

"Carter, come 'ere a sec," He led him over to the table urging him to sit down. The energy quickly faded and was replaced with suspicion. He looked around at everyone's searching looks.

"Is, uh, something wrong?" he asked innocently.

"Oh no, no, nothing's wrong," Hogan assured him in the same tone he used when he was playing the Kommandant or "convincing" Schultz, "We're all great here, right fellas?"

"Right." Everyone nodded agreeably forcing his best smile. It only made Carter more suspicious.

"That's good…I think?" He looked up the Colonel again.

"Yeah, it's all wonderful," Hogan agreed, "What about you, Carter? How are you today?"

"I'm just swell," Carter answered relaxing a little.

"Nothing bothering you?"

"No, sir."

"Are you sure? You know you can always come to us."

"I'm sure," the suspicion was retuning and he regarded everyone wearily. "Are you looking for something to fool Klink with?" Or "volunteering" someone for something unpleasant?

"No, no ruses this time," Hogan assured him, "Just making sure all my men are in top form. You know how it gets with the weather sometimes." Carter considered it and nodded.

"Well, don't worry about me, I'm perfectly fine. Right as rain and all that, although I guess rain wouldn't really be right right now, right?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, yeah," Hogan stopped mid eye roll to nod agreeably. He always had to be careful not to give Carter an inch, or he could talk for hours. Looking at him now, he seemed fine, no different from normal. He could only hope Newkirk was satisfied with this.

"Alright then, you should get back to work then," Hogan told him, "How are the tunnels going?"

"We should be done with the hardest stuff by lights out," Carter explained, "And Klink's garden is looking great so far. Although it's kinda a pity that we only got about two flowers in so far."

"Alright good work, tell the others to keep it up too. We'll relieve you guys in another hour or so."

"You got it, sir," Carter smiled, "Leave it to me. Piece of cake." Carter left the barracks just before he could see everyone's smiles freeze on their face. An uneasy silence was left behind that Newkirk was the first to recover from, absolutely smug.

LeBeau was next, "Piece of cake?"

Followed by Kinch, "Right as rain?"

And Hogan, "He didn't call me "boy"."

"Believe me now?" Newkirk asked, somewhat concerned, but mostly triumphant.

The others nodded.


"Maybe it's homesickness," Kinch suggested after a while, "Occam's razor. Best to stick with the simplest solution." The four of them were huddled around the table, working out their plan. Now that it was certain that something was bothering Carter, it was on the forefront everyone's mind, and refused to budge.

"If it were, he'd be here talking our ears off," Newkirk shook his head, "You know how he is." Kinch considered it and nodded. He probably knew more about Carter's family than his own by now, based on how often the young tech sergeant talked about them.

"Maybe it's a girl," LeBeau suggested.

"Always women with you, ain't it mate?" Newkirk muttered cheekily throwing his arms up in defense when he was met with three glares.

"He seemed to get pretty friendly with the girl at the Hofbrau," LeBeau continued, "Maybe he's lovesick."

"And when was I going to hear about this?" Hogan asked, resulting in LeBeau looking like a deer caught in the headlights. "Somehow, I can't imagine Carter not telling us about it."

"He is allowed to have his secrets, sir," Kinch pointed out.

"I know, I know," Hogan wasn't convinced though, "Somehow I don't think it's that. Carter's emotions tend to show on his face. If he was upset I think it would be very obvious. Newkirk, how did you say he looked?"

"Disappointed," Newkirk answered. The four of them considered it for a moment. Suddenly LeBeau exclaimed,

"Anniversaire! That has to be it!"

"Birthday?" Kinch asked, translating for the others, "No that's impossible."

"Why not?" Newkirk grinned, "I think you're on to something here LeBeau. We haven't celebrated it yet, and we always have such big parties. I'll bet me boots that's it."

"Then pay up; his birthday isn't today," Kinch replied.

"When is it?" LeBeau asked.

"It's…" the words died on his lips. Kinch thought about it for a few tense moments, his frown growing deeper and deeper.

"Well?" Newkirk frowned, as he tried to recall the date himself. He turned to Hogan, who also seemed to be considering it. An awkward realization enveloped the room.

"I'll be right back," Hogan finally said, slightly nerved and left the barracks without another word.


AN: It's me again :D This is going to be my first multi-chaptered HH fic, and I think I'll have it done around Christmas or New Year (it was originally going to be a one shot, but it was getting long so I split it. Incidentally I wrote most of it (save for the ending) during the five hours I had between finals today. Inspiration strikes those who forget their games :P)

This story is a response to a challenge, but for spoiler reasons, I would rather not say which challenge until the end, if that's alright.

Thank you for reading :)