A/N: I found this 8-10 year old story going through things. I worked on it in my spare time as a lawyer. First it was a Hogan's story. I'd found the proper heroes in Schultz's family. They were ripe for development.
When I couldn't reach the owners of HH for permission, I pondered using original characters, but you all know how things change. Sorry, my punctuation wasn't as good as it is now. I also didn't write kids as well; another reason I never pursued it. I tried to leave out contractions and such for them then - one rarely heard Germans use them on Hogan's Heroes. I'm better at it now (I wrote kids better in 2001 or so in "Roses Are White") but sorry if they still sound too mature. I did try to change them and have them sound more their own ages now. If they're a little off, one could also argue that something like this will force one to grow up fast.
I came up with other ways to reconcile the real world with Hogan's Heroes. "The Green, Green Grass of Home" is my official idea of how it would end, except I doubt Oskar joins the Underground; he'd be drafted and they'd get him to Stalag 13, etc. (You will notice there is a hint that the hideaways in question are with Gretchen in that story.)
I merged some things so the parts with just the Schultzes weren't as long in the beginning, and added stuff from the show to explain Schultz's womanizing, Newkirk's absence (I think it is) in one episode, and Kinch's in numerous episodes, and ideas some friends and I had back then about their origin. In other words, I try to make it mesh with the entire series, which I think it does fairly well. It only implied Hogan's existence originally, focusing totally on the Schutlzes. I took out diary type thoughts of the kids, and posted for your enjoyment, and to honor the true heroes. Thanks to the American Holocaust Museum for their tremendous website, and other groups with sites telling of those who protected Jews. Their determination and sacrifice consecrate the realm of this work far more than mere words can ever do. Though it could not be a book, it is here for any to enjoy.
Finally, thanks to the Lord for His unending goodness, grace, power, and mercy. This will be one of my last stories, and is only up here because I wanted it to be up somewhere. I can't imagine going through what such people went through without the incredible faith tha I have, and even then it would be very hard. Yes, it was not all Christians who hid Jews, but some did. I know I couldn't have without God – just as, being handicapped, I could not function today without that faith. So, I do put a lot in here. That's how the book was, when it was just a quasi-Hogan's book, focusing on the others. But, I try to keep it realistic, too.
Chapter One – The Operation Begins – Jan. 1941
Gretchen Schultz bundled the last of her three guests into his heavy coat. A bitter wind swept through the city of Heidelberg. It sent a chill through every bone, transmitting shivers through those who even thought of venturing outside.
The visitors felt somewhat cheerful. Their lot was not a happy one, for they were Jews in the midst of Germany. Still, attempts were made to shelter them from much of the insanity surrounding their lives, and they often played joyfully with the Schultz's children as if nothing were amiss. In the last few days, their parents had left them there quite a bit; it had been more than usual since October, in fact.
"I don't want a scarf," Isaac, five, declared adamantly.
"You must wear one," insisted Gretchen. "Your mother will not want you to catch a cold." She would be mad at me, too, Gretchen thought, though she would hide it well. When the world compared you to vermin, anyone who treated you nicely was worthy of friendship. Thus, Gretchen told herself with a laugh, Mrs. Rubin would remain a friend if I accidentally gave her son pneumonia. I would not do that, but that would be better than a lot of people would wish
"When will Mr. Schultz be home," inquired Micah, seven, as Mrs. Schultz instructed her eldest, Oskar, to watch his younger siblings and led the visitors to her car.
"I am not sure, but he will be home a little. He is stationed at a prisoner of war camp," stated Gretchen, grateful to have him close to home and away from the fighting. "It is a camp where they house captured allied soldiers," she explained.
"Yes, he says the cockroach is a prisoner there," Oskar remarked. Albert, nine, rolled his eyes, and in an embarrassed voice asked Oskar not to repeat that story, as the others left the house.
Moses, one, fussed but eventually sat as Micah held him in the back of the car. Good thing Hans owned such a large company before the war, she considered concerning her husband; many now do not have such a luxury as a car.
Isaac enjoyed watching the snowflakes rush past the windows, blowing ever more furiously as a squall developed by the time they arrived. Mrs. Schultz stopped the car, wondering why no lights were on. Isn't it around supper time, she wondered, looking at her watch.
She left the car herself. Given the treacherous conditions, the children could get lost in a snowdrift, the snowy gale blew so fiercely. She took the keys, lest Micah try to drive. Just in case they aren't home, the children would be a bit warmer. A tinge of concern hit her. They were always very prompt, and she wondered if one might have had to go to the hospital.
Gretchen reflected that their friendship went back almost seven years, as she trudged through the snow and the whistling wind. They originally met because they had infants the same age. Their support for each other soon extended beyond that. When the Nazis confiscated Mr. Rubins' business in 1936, the Schultzes provided assistance. Even Hans, her husband, had helped, she considered as she banged repeatedly on the door. Hans always stated that the purpose of life was to be nice, and the patriarch had been, to his credit. He provided Mr. Rubin with a job in his large toy company which lasted until recently, when Hans was drafted.
When some others drank to the Fuhrer in Kommandant Klink's office once, he turned his back on the picture of Hitler. Mr. Schultz had refused to join the Nazi Party, simply telling others that he'd "just never gotten around to it," but secretly disagreeing with their stance on Jews. He couldn't dream of hating any person.
She saw neither lights nor movement inside as she looked around. Suddenly, she noticed a sign on the door, flapping in the bitter breeze. It held four words - "relocated, no forwarding address."
Gretchen thought there must be some mistake. Yes, others had fled, when the Germans invaded France. The region's leader had spoken of removing the Jews in his region. However, the Rubins, despite the hatred, had been determined to persevere and triumph, and felt no qualms about staying. Indeed, they insisted upon it, just as many others had in their situation. Even if they'd changed their minds, Gretchen knew they wouldn't have left without their children.
As she turned toward the car a figure, clad in a fur coat that looked to be hastily thrown on, ran up to her and pulled her aside, behind a wide tree. Gretchen shuddered for a moment, as the woman asked, "Are you here to see the Rubins?" The voice possessed a hint of a whisper, though the howling wind meant even a normal voice would be hard to hear.
"Y-yes, I have come to drop their children off." The woman gave a slow nod of understanding, and what seemed to be a look of recognition. Yes, thought the lady, named Ada, I thought I'd recognized you. "Where are they?" The bitter breeze bit at her face, even with her scarf loosely covering it. The snow whipped around them in a frenzy.
"Shhh, take the children, and go home," Ada whispered tensely. "Hopefully you have not been seen; the Lord has protected us with this squall. If you have we can protect you."
"Seen by whom, what..." Gretchen began before being shushed more emphatically. "What are you talking about," whispered the woman.
Ada explained. "The Gestapo came about an hour ago, I eavesdropped and heard them talking about where they would take them." She looked around. "I do not know if they are watching the house, but I have another key. If need be we can use that, and make it look like the children were back." Already, the mysterious woman pondered a plan. "Do you have a husband?"
"Yes, he is in the military," Gretchen began before stopping. Why am I telling her this, she wondered. "What is this about?"
Not bothering to answer questions, Ada quickly stated, "You will not be likely suspects."
"Suspects in what, what have they done?" insisted Gretchen, now gravely concerned. No, she told herself, she could not see them as spies.
"Suspects of the crime of harboring Jews," Ada hissed. "We shall talk later, now leave!"
Gretchen grabbed Ada's arm before she fled. A scarf already reconcealing her face, she turned in the direction of Gretchen. Mrs. Schultz had so many questions, she didn't know what to ask first. "Who are you, where have they gone," Gretchen sputtered. And, what kind of a crime is helping one's fellow human being, she asked herself. What kind of monsters were in power?
Ada hung her head in despair, barely able to speak the words that she sensed spelled certain horror and inevitable death. Her voice trembled, and she swallowed hard. The bitter words matched the bleak surroundings, their cold tone equaling the deadly lack of compassion as she tried not to shed tears, lest they freeze halfway down her face. Her hushed, melancholy voice uttered "a place...called Buchenwald," and she fled the scene.
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Gretchen walked into her home in a daze, the Rubins' children following. As Oskar greeted her, she slumped into a foyer chair. Three-year-old Heidi ran and leaped into her arms. "Mommy," she exclaimed happily as her mother embraced her. "What's for dinner?"
Oskar's mother looked up and inquired of the lad, "Can you make potato pancakes like I taught you?" He nodded excitedly, the eleven-year-old was proud to be able to help. "Do it, right now I am very puzzled, and need time to clear my head." She'd hoped he would recall how to, and felt extremely glad her son had listened so well when she worked with him in the fine art of cooking, even with such a simple dish.
"Is something wrong, mother?" Her look dumbfounded Oskar.
"I will tell you later, dear," she remarked, glancing toward the girl she cuddled to indicate it was a subject not to be broached in front of her tender ears.
Oskar understood and nodded. He'd had much experience keeping things away from younger siblings, including the notion that his father might not come home.
He flew into the operation of cooking like a seasoned veteran, delighted to be the man of the house. Heinrich, nearly five, followed him expectantly. "I believe I have a shadow," the pre-teen teased Heinrich. As he placed several mixing bowls on the counter, the smaller child put the entire contents of one cupboard on the counter. "Silly boy, we do not need all that!"
"What are we making," Heinrich inquired, as he poured salt indiscriminately into a bowl. He was eager to assist and expecting his older brother to allow him to help.
"I am making potato pancakes," the eldest boy remarked, holding Heinrich's arm, "and you are making a mess." He shooed the boy away as he attempted to determine how much salt went into the bowl. He poured some back into the container. "Nein, not that many potatoes," came the aggrieved voice as his little brother plopped a large amount into the biggest bowl.
The whirlwind of activity finally stopped as Heinrich asked, "When do we eat?"
Oskar grinned, recalling a joke his mother had made once. Crouching, he delivered the same response. "Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes if you help," he explained, pausing for effect, "and twenty if you do not." Oskar resumed measuring of ingredients for several minutes, only to see Heinrich pour an excess amount of flour into the bowl. "Heinrich, what are you doing? Now I will have to make twice the batch!"
"I helped you make more, then, right?"
The query seemed sincere, and Oskar recalled his parents' loving way in which they humbled themselves to understand their children. He reminded himself to be nice to his brother, realizing Heinrich could not understand all that needed to be done. He smirked. "You are a jolly joker," he said, repeating one of his dad's favorite phrases with the children. Oskar called upon his other brothers to divert Heinrich's attention, so he could focus on cooking.
He quickly gazed at his mother in worried silence. Usually at this point, she's kidding me about getting the same treatment I'd give her when I was young, he mused, wondering what happened.
As the children ate, little was mentioned of the Rubins' parents. The children could tell something troubled Gretchen as she tried in vain to comprehend the events of the last few hours. Oskar considered asking about it, but couldn't. First, she'd implied it was not for the younger children to hear, and, second, he wasn't sure if he wanted to know.
Gretchen heard a knock as she prepared to bathe the younger children. The somewhat large house featured an unfinished attic and basement, but neither housed living quarters. Gretchen hadn't considered those places for some time, until Ada stepped into the foyer and inquired about them instantaneously.
Shutting the door and locking it, Gretchen sighed. The children ran around in their underwear, but that couldn't be helped; events were spinning out of her control. She called upon the older children to corral Moses and keep him away from danger. "Now, what is this about?"
Ada suggested they sit at the kitchen table. Upon sitting, Ada remarked that, "I was not followed, that is certain. However, I saw one of the children, and if the Gestapo catch one of them here it would be very serious trouble for all of you."
Gretchen took her hands. She felt them tremble with anxiety, though a little of that vibrating was her own. "Dear, you are obviously very scared; you act just like my youngest when she has a bad dream. However, you have not even given me your name, much less told me what is going on. Please, help me understand what is troubling you. I would like to help if I can." Yes, she pondered, she shakes just like Heidi. Luckily, the darling's huge tremors are now only slight ones, but nightmares could certainly return, at her age.
Ada sighed. "I know this is going very fast for you, and I understand your bewilderment." Albert, nine, could be seen out of the corner of her eye catching Moses before he touched a wood-burning stove. "I am Adalia Hoover, or Ada, but that is unimportant. Let me begin with this. You know that the Nazis have been slowly taking away the rights of Jews?"
Gretchen nodded, vividly remembering the "Night of the Broken Glass" in 1938, and how the Rubins stayed in the Schultz home, quite fearful until the incredible destructiveness was over. The wanton vandalism inspired by the Nazis, plus the random, pointless arrests, caused their friends much grief. They'd been very thankful for the Schultz's compassion during that time.
Ada continued somberly. "The government demanded this to separate them. Now, they have begun taking them away, and they will take the children, too, if they are not well-hidden. They have, for a long time, been preaching messages of hate, surely you have heard this?"
Gretchen nodded sadly. Her children heard many terrible things at school. Their families had tried to keep the little ones far removed from the evils preached by Hitler, teaching them to be nice, but it was very hard, particularly with her husband being away. Her angry glares and sharp rebukes - so sharp her husband joked once he often thought about her "during bayonet practice" - if one of them hurt or insulted another could only go so far. It seemed inevitable, as she told Ada, that her children would have to choose for themselves to love or hate. "As much as we have taught them to always be nice, it is so hard."
Testing her, Ada agreed that, "Our leaders have said many things which are not nice. Tell me; if our leaders ordered you to kill another, would you do it?"
Gretchen recognized the dilemma Ada posed. And yet, she could fathom no leader ordering that, outside of war, where one tried to kill those from other nations. "Of course not!"
Ada pulled her purse up from beside her and removed two pieces of paper and a couple of books. They appeared to be Nazi propaganda; one, in fact, said "Mein Kampf," Hitler's book. She showed Gretchen that the covers were fake, and exposed Bibles underneath. "My dear," remarked Ada, "there is an absolute right and wrong, right here in the Bible. These covers are fake so anyone who looks will think the reader is a loyal Nazi. We are to put nobody before God, not even our leaders," Ada explained.
"This first paper is the party's newspaper; see where I circled?" Gretchen raised her eyebrows as Ada pointed out the law in the other document. "The Nazis are deporting some of them already. The leader of the Saar-Baden region, here in Southwest Germany, ordered many deported to France in November of last year, and in October, some 200 were deported from this city alone, though a few stayed and were hidden, or, in your friends' case, they remained to help others, always using false papers, though that didn't last long. That is why they were sent where they were, we believe. You have never read Mein Kampf?" Gretchen shook her head; her husband, hans, was with the Social Democratic Party. "Hitler's evil notions are in the real 'Main Kampf.'"
"They...are being deported...where," came the voice as Gretchen still tried to make sense of the situation. "What is this Buchenwald?"
"Read the document." Gretchen did, becoming stunned and sorrowful. How could all of this be? How could innocent people be in such danger? "As you can see, the Jews were denied the right to leave Germany. It appears that this was done with the expressed purpose of allowing the Germans to deport them. Now, we both know it makes no sense to tell someone they cannot leave, then force them to leave." Gretchen nodded. "It also makes no sense to preach messages of hate, then try to protect people from it."
"This is…I knew that our leaders were preaching hatred, but…"
"As you can see, in some occupied areas it is already a capital crime to hide Jews; a capital crime!" She sighed. "Our small group was able to get this copy of the law, but almost nobody will believe me. However, we fear there is something quite sinister. From what is in Hitler's book; maybe something as bad as murder."
Gretchen once again became dizzy, and forced herself to remain upright in her seat. What did their leaders think they were doing, killing innocent people? Had they not one ounce of compassion? And, if the Jews were dying, would her children be next? Would she be next? Were the Rubins already dead, and if so, how did she break that to her children, much less to theirs? After all, the Rubins were as much good babysitters as she had been. Did they fear this? Was this why they had left their children with Gretchen so much lately? The flurry of fears and questions turned her mind into the Indianapolis 500 Speedway.
Ada pondered the alternatives herself. What was past was past. Now, she needed to protect these, as well as others who might not have been taken. She'd covertly helped a number of them before this, and from what the Rubins had said, she felt the woman in front of her would also be willing.
She chose first to confirm one thought. "They told me that they were concerned. They insisted on staying, but also actively sought to help others in this area. It is best if you keep the children in the attic or basement," Ada remarked. "Gretchen - Mrs. Rubin told me your name - they will not come after you or your children without cause. However, they will arrest you if they know you are harboring Jews. They have made it a capital crime to assist a Jewish person in any way in some occupied territories. If they wished to simply separate Jews from the rest of us, would they make it punishable by death to so much as assist one?" Gretchen shook her head, dazed and confused. "So many people blindly follow Hitler, without thinking," Ada lamented. "Now, once the heat is off, we could try to get the children to Switzerland, but it would be very risky, and without parents there would be many questions. The Swiss officially are not taking refugees, but there is a border guard we can go through."
If Gretchen chose not to help, she understood the rationale, and could get the children to Switzerland herself. She could understand it if Gretchen put her family first, but she really hoped Gretchen would help.
Mrs. Schultz pondered it. The children whom she watched could soon be parentless. Even with this bit about murder being speculation right now, she knew something awful was happening when families could be totally uprooted, when so much terror was already filing their lives.
These children didn't just need to escape, they needed love, support, and comforting. How much of that could be given in a basement or attic? Probably very little; but they would be with people they knew. This was a positive to remaining even if they were guaranteed to get through to a Swiss orphanage, a prospect which Ada had correctly asserted would be very difficult. That would be a trip of several hundred miles, through numerous checkpoints.
Theoretically, she and her family could try to make it with them, but where would her husband be? He would be without a home, and perhaps imprisoned himself. She understood the Gestapo and SS had been known to do very bad things to people. Therefore, she could not leave him.
Hence, Gretchen made a determination which would change her life for the foreseeable future. She wasn't sure how long - but she determined that only one real choice existed. She wanted to cry, but remained resolute, her voice cracking as she spoke. "They can stay with us for however long it takes to end the terrible laws which have been passed against them."
Ada smiled broadly. "I knew you would choose this. Mrs. Rubin and I discussed finding a place of refuge. She said if anything happened before then, she knew where her children would be safest; that she could trust you with their lives."
The thought was too much for Gretchen to handle, and she broke into a stream of tears. Oskar noticed as he meandered out to the kitchen to report on the bathing process. "Mother, what is the matter," he began, rushing to hug her. Has something happened to Father so soon, he asked himself? But, he was supposed to be safe at a prisoner of war camp. "Is...is it about Father?"
Gretchen noticed the query, but could not bring herself to answer other than a small shaking of her head. Ada decided it wouldn't be imposing too much if she explained part of the problem. "It is about the Rubins, Oskar - your friends' parents. Something terrible has happened to them."
Oskar turned to Gretchen. "Is...this what you wanted to tell me about, that you would not say in front of Heidi."
She nodded, wiping away the last of this round of tears. "Oskar...remember how we said the Nazis were telling us to hate Jews, and how we said not to believe our leaders?" He nodded, and his mother continued. "It is worse than we could have imagined. They have taken the Rubins to a place called Buchenwald, where they could possibly be killed." Oskar's mouth stood agape, as he struggled with believing it, he was so unaccustomed to imagining anything evil "It is true, my son..." she began, weeping slightly. How had they allowed it to come to this, she asked herself? She could not bring herself to utter the fact that the Rubins' children were also targeted.
Oskar slumped into a seat with disgust. He recognized what his mother could not say. He felt a little wary, but as he thought about it, he became resolute, the Spirit working in him just as his friend Otto had talked about. With a growing look of determination, he stated, "I will protect them at all costs." He smiled with great contentment as his mother nodded and grinned. "You know my friend Otto; he is a Christian, though his parents don't know it." Otto was in his middle teens; they'd played soccer together quite a bit. "A few weeks ago, I realized I needed Jesus in my life, that I was a sinner and needed His forgiveness. I got saved, and Jesus rules my heart now." He felt bad that he hadn't told her before; maybe she could have turned to God this evening when she looked so bewildered. "I really disliked what our leaders were saying, but I couldn't explain why. But, he can put things into words that I can't. All I know is, I want to be like him. So I can tell others about how bad our leaders are."
"We are going to need His help to protect the Rubins' children," Gretchen remarked candidly, looking at Oskar, then at Ada again. "I sometimes am quite sharp with others, especially with Hans, when I do not need to be. I remember a long time ago trusting Christ to save me, but…I have not really lived for Him as I should." She admitted that sometimes, she lacked the faith she should have. "With the Church underground, and now Hans away, we talk about God but have not kept it up. I suppose Oskar does not remember it that well, as it has been a few years."
Ada led Gretchen in a prayer of rededication, and they spoke thankfully of how God loves them and would help her even now. "Oskar, since you are going to keep them here, you must not draw attention to yourselves. Otherwise you might endanger the others."
His mother agreed; as much as they hated thinking about the things their leaders said, this was not the time to be reckless. There would come times when she would be upset enough that she would rather take up arms and storm one of those camps, but even then, her focus had to be on protecting her children. Oskar finally accepted this.
She could tell Gretchen's head was spinning, and offered one other piece of hope. "My husband, Frederick, is a local grocer," Ada finished. "He and I will help you with the children whenever you need. We have a small group who will protect the Jews who remain here. Sadly, it will be very hard to get any out. I will provide you with maps and safe havens should you need to travel, though, as well as false IDs for the children."
Oskar, meanwhile, considered how amazing it was to have a personal relationship with the Lord. He'd felt great respect for his father before, and had begun to have it for his leaders until his parents and, to a lesser extent, Otto had shown him how they were distorting the truth. Now, he could talk with the Lord any time, and expect an answer. He'd long been able to focus on tasks. This would be the most important of his life. He would be keeping people alive.
It amazed him; this was so much more than simply being the "man of the house" and helping with chores. He knew he would need help.
Oskar pondered whether he should tell Otto about this. Otto could assist him greatly, being several years older than he. However, the next day, while walking home from school, he noticed a "psst" emanating from a group of bushes. Inching over and looking around, he half expected the grocer, Frederick, to appear, though he didn't know exactly where his grocery store was.
However, much to his surprise, Otto peeked out for a second, then pulled Oskar into the snow-covered bushes. As Oskar brushed snow from his face, Otto whispered in his ear. "Oskar, my parents found out."
"What? How!?" was all the response the lad could muster. Otto covered his hair with the hood of his coat and glanced around.
"They found me reading the Bible, they snuck in when I was not looking," Otto explained. "They forced me to swear allegiance to Hitler. I told them I would not..."
"I have a friend with a Bible with a fake cover. They'll think you are reading 'Mein Kampf,'" Oskar explained matter-of-factly.
Otto shook his head. "They will not let me, they are going through all my books, and burning them," the teen insisted. A tinge of fear in his voice, Otto remarked that "they are giving me one more chance, and they say they will send me to a 're-education center' if they ever catch me reading about anything which could go against the Nazi Party."
With the casual air and cool demeanor which belied his age, a bearing Oskar readily adopted when fixed on something - in this case, reassuring his friend - he spoke. "I asked Jesus to be my Lord and Savior just like you; I know He can do great things. He will help you."
Otto admired the intense confidence of Oskar's youth. He hoped that Oskar would never lose that faith. However, he remarked that, "It is too late for me to do any good, except to pray and worship in secret. Of course, remember what I said, prayer is the most important job we have. Hopefully you will remember our talks, my friend." He got up to leave, but Oskar grabbed his arm. "What," came the annoyed question.
"Otto, do you not want to know...mmpf" His mouth felt a hand slapping it shut.
"I want to know nothing!" came the voice eerily like Oskar's father's. "If they ever do send me away I could be forced to give out information. If I do not know about whatever you are saying, it cannot be dragged out of me. I wish I could help, but I cannot, except I will pray for you." The teen rose, found there was nobody watching him, and instructed Oskar to depart from the bushes a minute after he did. Wishing to leave his friend on a happier note, he turned around and whispered that "you are not alone. God promises He will never leave you nor forsake you."
Oskar promised to remember that, as his friend vanished. He waited a moment, determining what allies he had left in this crazy scenario. He could find few - his entire world had been turned upside-down. Certainly, he knew his leaders hated Jews, and that that hatred was sinful. However, he'd never contemplated that such wickedness could exist in the world, especially in his own country.
However, he'd gleaned from talks with Otto how wonderful the Lord could be. He was certain he could ask God for something, and the prayer would be answered. They needed protection, guidance, and so much more, things which only the Lord could aid them with, given the confusing nature of these times when their leaders were practicing pure evil. Oskar walked home and prayed intensely for several hours. Then, the air raid siren sounded, sending everything into a greater state of confusion.
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