Chapter One: A Hairy Situation

It was a sight that would put fear in many a man's soul and it troubled Peter Newkirk's soul most of all. It was the sight of Caporal Louis LeBeau, with a pair of scissors and a comb in his hands, standing over the helpless figure of Andrew Carter who was sitting in a chair outside of Barracks Two with a tattered old bed sheet tied around his neck. While Newkirk would grudgingly admit that LeBeau was a good chef, the Frenchman was not and would never be a barber. It didn't matter how much practice LeBeau how gotten in cutting the hair for those poor chaps who they processed downstairs, there was no way Newkirk was letting LeBeau and those scissors get anywhere near his head.

Unfortunately, Newkirk was in desperate need of a haircut and the camp's regular barber, Corporal Seville, was in the cooler along with half the occupants of Barracks Eleven as Klink was being unusually stubborn about letting the men out before their thirty days were finished. It might have had something to do with the two am concert that Seville had helped organize outside the Kommandant's bedroom window though, with the way the way Klink carried on with his violin, one would think that the man would appreciate music in all its forms but apparently the Kommandant's love of music did not include ditties that insulted the Führer. It was a shame, Newkirk was told the music was quite good but he hadn't heard it as he had been too busy using the distraction to sneak three escaped prisoners from Stalag Nine out of camp.

Somehow, Carter and Carter's hair managed to survive their encounter with LeBeau's scissors as the Frenchman stepped back to admire his handiwork. "Voila! Good as new."

Running his hands through his now shorter hair, Carter grinned. "Gee, thanks, LeBeau."

LeBeau gestured for the American to rise and Carter wasted no time in hurrying towards the barracks to get a better look at his haircut. While shaking the sheet so that the strands of hair fell to the ground, LeBeau called out. "You are next, Newkirk."

Pushing his hair that was threatening to fall into his eyes out of the way, Newkirk replied politely, "No thanks. I'll wait for next month."

"Your hair needs a trim."

Newkirk remained firm. "I like me hair how it is."

LeBeau quickly glanced around to make sure their where no guards within earshot. "Who ever heard of a German with shaggy hair? The Colonel will not let you go to town looking like that."

"And no bird will look at me twice if I let you cut it."

"Carter's hair looks perfect."

"That's Carter. If you think I'm letting you touch me hair, you're out of your mind!"

Grinning, LeBeau called out, "Oi, Carter! Newkirk does not want me to give him a haircut; perhaps you can do it for him?"

Carter poked his head through the open barrack's door. "Me? Well sure, I guess. I've never given anyone a haircut before but how hard can it be? I've always wanted to try…"

"Fine!" Newkirk declared as he threw his hands up in defeat. "I'll get in the bloody chair."

Behind Newkirk's back LeBeau gave Carter a wink as the Frenchman tied the sheet around his reluctant friend's neck. "Give me a minute and you will look good enough to be an officer."

Newkirk shot LeBeau his dirtiest look. "It's bad enough that you're trying to be a barber but could you leave the comedy routine at home?"

"Ssh, be quiet. I need to concentrate."

Great, Newkirk thought as tried to remain still and not think about what his mate was currently doing to his hair. However, the sound of LeBeau murmuring softly in French while he wielded the scissors did little to ease to ease his nerves.

Newkirk suffered in silence until Colonel Hogan and Carter decided that he needed an audience and from the amused looks on their faces, Newkirk believed that they were enjoying their free show.

LeBeau looked up from his task and asked, "Would you like to be next, Colonel?"

"How come he gets a choice?" Newkirk complained.

"Because he is the Colonel."

Hogan smiled. "Not today, LeBeau. We have a mission."

The prospect of a mission cheered Newkirk up a bit. Except for the processing of the prisoners from Stalag Nine things had been rather quiet lately and, while he would never admit it, Newkirk was itching to get out of camp and cause some trouble.

After checking that the coast was clear, Hogan began his report. "The allies have identified a high priority target in the area."

"And they want us to take it out," Carter guessed, his voice full of eagerness. "I got some real beauties down in the lab that we use to make a big bang, or a small bang or any size bang really. Just let me know what size bang you need and I'll…"

"Carter!" Hogan interrupted. "We aren't going to making any bangs on this mission."

"We are not going to take out the target?" LeBeau asked.

"No, they wouldn't even tell me what the target is. Apparently, we do not need to know. London is planning on sending in a commando team and they want to drop them in our vicinity. We are to rendezvous and outfit them with civilian clothes and IDs and send them on their merry way."

"The guards miss a lot but I doubt that they would miss a whole unit parachuting into the woods by camp," Carter exclaimed.

"Exactly," Hogan replied. "Which is why we are going to have to come up with a plan to distract them."

Recognizing the scheming tone to his superior officer's voice, Newkirk said, "I'm all ears."

Newkirk jerked as he felt a slight slap on the back of his head as LeBeau admonished him, "And you are moving. How am I supposed to give you an even look if you are talking?"

"You couldn't give me an even look if I were quiet!"

A pointed look from the Colonel kept Newkirk in his chair but only because he figured whatever damage LeBeau was doing to his hair was probably already done. However, Newkirk was wrong as a couple of snips later he heard the word that no man sitting in a barber's chair ever wished to hear.

"Oops!"

Newkirk leapt out of the chair and ripped the sheet off in a single movement as he rounded on his mate. LeBeau looked apologetic but Newkirk didn't care. He had known that LeBeau couldn't cut hair but had anyone believed him?

Not daring to look anyone else in the eye, Newkirk raced for the barracks and to see how bad the damage was. A few moments later, laughter filled the air as a red-faced Newkirk stormed back outside. "There's nothing wrong!"

A now grinning LeBeau gave a little bow. "You are welcome."

Newkirk grudgingly admitted that LeBeau had gotten the best of him and he was already plotting ways that he could get his revenge when the front gates to the camp opened and a single black staff car drove into camp.

Recognizing the car as Gestapo, Hogan ordered, "Carter, get Kinch and tell him to shut down the radio."

While Carter moved quickly to fulfill Hogan's order, Newkirk watched as the car slowly came to a halt. The unpleasant, but familiar, figure of Major Hochstetter stepped into the summer air. Looking around the Stalag with his usual glare, Hochstetter noticed the prisoners watching but for once made no comment as he moved to let a passenger out of the back seat.

An older, silver-haired man stepped out of the car. He had a distinguished air about him that was ruined by the swastika on his sleeve. Newkirk racked his brain trying to figure if he had ever seen the man before but to no avail.

Sergeant Schultz hurried forward to greet the men but the lack of movement from the Kommandant's office told Newkirk that this was an unexpected visit. He hoped that Hochstetter wasn't planning on causing trouble even though trouble and Gestapo were synonymous. As Schultz escorted the visitors to Klink's office, LeBeau asked, "Who is that with Hochstetter?"

"Looks like a civilian," Kinch said as he joined the group.

"That's no civilian," Carter corrected. "That's a Nazi!"

"Let's not invite him to join us for coffee then," Hogan stated.

Taking the not-so-subtle-hint, Newkirk and the others followed Hogan into his quarters and gathered around the coffee pot. It didn't take long before the hidden microphone picked up the German voices.

"Major Hochstetter, welcome, welcome. I hope that it is pleasant business that brings you to Stalag Thirteen."

"There is no such thing as pleasant business in the Gestapo," Hochstetter growled. "But you should be relieved to hear that it is not Gestapo business that brings me here. Colonel Klink, let me introduce you Gauleiter Hans Lupul. Heil Hitler."

"Heil Hitler," a chorus of voices echoed.

"Gauleiter Lupul, I am honored that you would visit our little Stalag. An esteemed party leader such as yourself is always…"

"Danke, Kommandant," an unfamiliar voice interrupted. "I have business in Hammelburg and the surrounding area. I am recruiting young men to take part in Operation Werwolf."

Klink's voice rose in enthusiasm. "That sounds terribly important and to think you have..."

Lupul didn't let Klink finish. "It is important. Werwolf will be an elite commando trained in guerilla warfare and capable of operating behind enemy lines."

"Behind enemy lines! Surely we are in no danger of being behind enemy lines here!" Klink blurted.

"What are these treasonous thoughts, Klink?" Hochstetter screamed. "This project was organized by Himmler and has the support of the Fuhrer!"

"I did not mean anything by my comments. I was just expressing my concern…"

Lupul cut in again, "Major, is this man always so talkative? I believe I pressed on you the need for secrecy."

Klink spoke up before Hochstetter could answer. "No problem, Gauleiter. You have come to the most secure prison camp in all of Germany. There are no leaks from my camp!"

"Secure! Bah!" Hochstetter spat. "If you want secure might I repeat my suggestion that we house you at Gestapo headquarters."

Klink sounded hurt. "But, Major, no prisoner has ever escaped from Stalag Thirteen."

Hogan shook his head at the exchange between Klink and Hochstetter. "They're bickering worse than a pair of soldiers fighting over a Betty Grable poster."

"I won't be surprised if this Lupul chap decides to shoot the both of them," Newkirk added.

"Gentlemen, I have made my decision. I will be housed here. Kommandant, you will see that news of my mission does not leave this room. Major, you will set up the meetings I require. I do not wish to remain any longer than absolutely necessary."

"And how long will that be?" Klink asked.

"Three days."

"Schultz, escort Gauleiter Lupul and the Major to the guest quarters and see that they have whatever they need."

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant."

As Hogan reached over and pulled the plug, Newkirk analyzed the situation. "Well, that puts a wrench in things. There is no way Hochstetter is going to miss those commandos dropping in."

"London won't be happy if we tell them to scrub the mission," Kinch said. "They were pretty insistent that the men needed to be dropped two nights from now."

The conversation stalled as the POWs considered their new problem but Carter had a different concern on his mind. "This Lupul guy called his mission Operation Werwolf. Do you think the Nazis are creating werewolf soldiers?"

Newkirk shot his mate a look that suggested that he was barking mad but Carter didn't notice as he rumbled on, "When you think about it, werewolves would make good soldiers. They are savage and scary and they'd be unstoppable on a full moon!"

"And if I give them a saucer of milk they will start acting like little puppies," LeBeau countered.

Carter considered it for a moment. "That works with the dogs in camp but I don't think that would work with real werewolves."

"Carter, we aren't in Werewolf of London," Newkirk argued.

"You liked that movie?" Kinch asked. "The Wolf Man was much better."

Newkirk hadn't seen the other movie but he was naturally inclined to believe that anything that took place in London was superior. But before he could defend the honor of his country, Carter asked, "What if Lupul really was a werewolf? His name sounds like the name of a werewolf."

Rolling his eyes, Newkirk shot back, "By that reasoning Hochstetter would also be a werewolf since his name is Wolfgang!"

"Golly, do you think? He certainly growls a lot. Perhaps Lupul bit him."

"No one is a werewolf," Kinch stated firmly.

Carter's face fell and Newkirk began to wonder if their teasing had gone too far when he noticed that Hogan was deep in thought. The others realized it too as they stopped talking and waited for their commanding officer to share what was on his mind.

They didn't have to wait long as Hogan looked up at Kinch. "Did you find out what phase the moon will be in when the commandos are dropped?"

"Yeah, full."

"Perfect."

"Sir," Newkirk said tentatively. "Did I just hear you say perfect? Because I can't think of a worse time to be parachuting into enemy territory."

Looking directly at Carter, Hogan smiled. "Not if there are werewolves running around."

Historical Note:

Unternehmen Werwolf (Operation Werwolf) was formed by Himmler in summer of 1944 with the goal of creating an elite unit of commandos capable of operating behind enemy lines. Around 5,000 men were recruited by Gauleiters from the SS and Hitler Youth and were trained in the tactics of guerilla warfare. However, the plan was never successfully implemented and was scrapped in the final weeks of the war.

In March of '45, Joseph Goebbels gave his infamous 'Werwolf Speech' urging every German to fight to the death. Even though Goebbels' speech was unsuccessful it caused many to mistakenly believe that such an organization did exist, including the Allied Occupation Forces. As a result, hundreds of youths were arrested by the Soviets on the suspension of being part of Werwolf and were killed or interned in camps as a result. Eisenhower was convinced that he would face guerilla warfare in Germany and Churchill announced that German troops would held in camps for months after the war was over in order to prevent Werwolf activity.

Even though Operation Werwolf was military failure it still resulted in repercussions that lasted long after the war was over.

Source: Wikipedia