"I'll go back and talk to Otto."
Hogan in "Is General Hammerschlag Burning?"
Leaning back against the open window, Hogan knew that he should be in a great mood. Their scheme to fool General Hammerschlag had worked, the girl hadn't betrayed them and having a copy of those plans could potentially lead to the salvation of Paris.
So why did Hogan feel so miserable?
Was he really upset that Kinch, the man who had the least amount of chances of all his men to even look at a girl, was enjoying a few moments with a beautiful woman in his arms while he was standing here alone?
Was that all it was? Jealousy?
It would be easy to blame his mood on jealousy, Hogan rationalized, but if he was honest with himself he had to admit that he had been in a bad mood ever since DuBois had shown up in camp asking for help.
That's not true, Hogan, you were more than happy to take on this mission when DuBois first arrived.
When DuBois showed up asking for help in Paris, Hogan had jumped. As much as he enjoyed playing with Klink and Burkhalter, the chance to test his skills in a different arena against new players was a challenge that invigorated him.
But DuBois hadn't come for him. He had come for Kinch. And in the few moments it had taken Hogan to process that information Kinch had taken control. The staff sergeant had even given him permission to come along.
This whole mission Hogan had not been in control, Kinch had been and that had irked Hogan. He never liked not being the one in charge and, when they arrived in Paris, he had still assumed that once Kinch talked to the girl he would be the one to work out a plan to get their hands on those plans.
He had been wrong.
When General Hammerschlag arrived unexpectedly it had been Kinch who had in a matter of seconds assessed the situation and came up with a solution.
It was enough to make a man feel redundant.
He made you a mute. He didn't let you talk.
The way Kinch had played the general had been perfect and part of Hogan was proud to see one of his men show such skill but being made a mute had rankled. His silver tongue, his ability to manipulate the krauts into doing whatever he wanted with only words was his talent and with one sentence Kinch had taken that away.
It was enough to make a man feel unwanted.
He called you unintelligent, mocked your eyes.
Hogan knew that Kinch didn't believe the words he was saying, that the sergeant was simply playing a part but those words had hurt. And it bothered Hogan to admit it. The way Kinch had described him was insulting.
And the general had accepted Kinch's assessment of his character based on his appearance alone.
It was enough to make a man feel powerless.
Hogan was an officer, Kinch was an NCO. Yet, he depended on Kinch and trusted him enough to make him his XO so why was he so shocked to see Kinch display the very leadership qualities he had encouraged?
Your XO is supposed to order around the other men, not his superior officer.
That, if Hogan was honest with himself, was the root of his problem.
As much as Hogan let his guard down so he could talk and laugh with his team, he had never forgotten the line that existed between him and his men. He was the officer, the weight of this operation was on his shoulders, and he was the one responsible for making the tough decisions and for finding the solutions to impossible problems. His team supported him, made suggestions, and even challenged him when necessary but in the end it was Hogan's duty to give orders and his men's duty to follow those orders.
So are you mad because you were ordered around by an NCO or because you were ordered around by a Negro NCO?
That thought stopped Hogan in his tracks. He liked Kinch, he recognized the man's talents, he told himself that he didn't care that the sergeant was colored. Kinchloe was a good man. He had proven that more times than Hogan could count. So that couldn't be the problem. Could it?
Playing the subordinate made you uncomfortable.
It had and Hogan had made sure that Kinch knew it. He had complained of feeling off, had protested Kinch's description of him in private, and had chaffed under the restrictions of his role all day. For being judged for his looks and being called unintelligent had bothered him in a way that he had never been bothered before. But it was over. He had played his part and now he could leave that part behind, never to be that man again.
Kinch can't leave those judgments behind.
Hogan sharply drew in his breath as he suddenly felt ashamed of his emotions and his actions. For this mission, Kinch had done more than take on Hogan's role, Hogan had taken on Kinch's. And how many more times had Kinch endured the insults and the harsh judgments in silence, not because he was mute, but because he was powerless to speak?
Hogan had traded places with one of his man for a day and the result was that he was pouting in a corner like a child. Kinchloe lived this everyday and yet he joked and laughed and remained the steadfast and dependable soldier that the operation needed. And while Kinch's favor with Hogan had granted him a measure of protection it hadn't stopped the insults completely. The men usually took care to voice those thoughts out of Hogan's hearing but he was not ignorant of the issues that were caused by the presence of the Tuskegee Airman in camp.
Hogan's sour mood turned to guilt as he considered how his complaints and his whining had affected a friend who had endured much worse. Kinch deserved a few stolen moments with a beautiful woman and he deserved better than an officer who moped in the corner when circumstances caused him to experience a small glimpse of the life his friend had to lead.
Hogan looked out at the night sky. Otto, you're a better talker than I realized.
I know, his conscience thought back.
"Colonel." Kinch tapped him lightly on the shoulder. "We need to leave."
"Right," Hogan replied. Then smiling his first genuine smile of the day, Hogan clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Kinch, good work on this one."
Kinch smiled back knowingly. "Anytime, sir."
