A/N: I don't own Hogan's Heroes and I don't get paid for this; it is truly a labor of love.


Imagine, if you will, a darkened room in a studio at Culver City, California, September 17, 1965:

A group of men (and one woman) are clustered around a huge television screen.

"It must be eighteen inches across!" marvels one of them.

"Color, too," says another, impressed.

"Aw, what good is that?" says a third. "Who cares if a TV show is in color or not?"

"Beats me."

"I can't believe I'm nervous about this. Do you really think the audience will care about a show based on something that ended twenty years ago?"

"I care," says a quiet voice belonging to the only female in the room. "I lived through the horror in Hitler's Europe, you know, when I was just a small child. We only came to the States in 1944."

"And I care as well," says the short man sitting in the front row. "Even more so, perhaps, since I did not escape the horror until the war's end."

"And at least three of you served in the armed forces during the war," the woman reminds them. "So you should care too."

There's a murmur of agreement around the room and the older men all nod vigorously.

Then one of them says, "Hey! Where's the guy who played Vladimir?"

"He didn't want to come tonight, since he decided not to continue with the series. Thinks the pilot trivialized the Great Patriotic War. Actually, I think he's a little embarrassed about being in a TV show seeing he was in Casablanca and all, with Bogey, no less."

"That's too bad. Hey, look, it's starting!"

Despite the earlier comment, there is a collective sigh of disappointment when the opening scene is in black and white. "That's just the intro," says one of the guys up front. "Wait until the opening credits."

After a comedic scene with CBS stars Alan Hale and Bob Denver introducing the show, there is a sound of drums and the words "Germany 1942" appear on the screen, which is still in black and white. There is another sigh of disappointment.

"Guess they didn't bother to film it in color after all."

"I like it," offers the bald fellow. "Gives a sense of desolation and hardship to the whole scene."

"Yeah? I thought this was supposed to be a comedy!"

There's silence for a time as the scene shifts to a tense moment with a POW sprinting for the wire, then a voice pipes up: "Doesn't this sort of remind you of..."

From the group: "Shush!"

The speaker obligingly shushes until the first commercial. Then he pipes up again. "What I wanted to say was, it sure didn't seem like it when we were filming it, but doesn't this sort of remind you of that movie Stalag 17?"

A chorus of scoffing is heard, and a voice with an English accent says, "Don't know what the copyright laws are in the States, but we just might be skating on thin ice. Best to keep mum about that, eh?"

Then all eyes turn back to the television and there is silence, punctuated by chuckles here and there, and then outright laughter as the fat German colonel on screen gets drenched with water. Even more laughter ensues when the dogs leap from the truck and start racing around the compound, and then applause as the POWs are triumphant over their captors and foil the evil informer in their midst.

The sound of drums fades off as the credits roll, and when the screen switches to a cigarette commercial the star of the show walks over to the television to turn it off.

"So what do you think?" he says.

"That uniform makes me look fat," says the big guy sitting off to one side.

"Forget the uniforms! What do you think of the show?"

"I liked it," says one of the guys in the back row. "Except it's gonna look strange because the pilot is all about getting me as Lieutenant Carter off to England, and then I show up on next week's episode still at the camp, as a sergeant!"

"So? With the same last name, right? Trust me, no one will ever notice."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"After watching this I sort of wish I hadn't turned down a regular role," says a fellow with curly dark hair. "But I had other plans, and at the time I didn't want to be tied down to a series."

There's a snort of laughter from another guy in the back. "Tied down! Who says it's even gonna last a whole season?"

"Well, it was fun while it lasted anyway," says one of the African-Americans in the room. "Even if the pilot is the only episode that ends up on the air. Gotta admit the whole idea is a little bizarre though. In more ways than one."

"Bizarre is the word. POWs choosing not to escape just so they can make fools of the Germans? I'm not sure the audience will get it."

"Well, what does it matter in the long run? Fifty years from now nobody will ever have heard of this show...or us."

"Maybe," murmurs the star of the show. "But I got a feeling we did something important here."


They did indeed. Today Hogan's Heroes is still making us laugh and making us think. Many thanks to the producers, writers, directors, support staff and actors who brought this concept to life fifty years ago.

Happy birthday, Hogan's Heroes! May there be many more.