The moment roll call was over and they were dismissed, the prisoners from Barracks 2 quickly rushed inside. They wanted to get out of the snow that was still falling and quickly piling up in the compound. It was also bitterly cold outside and their thin, worn jackets did little to keep them warm.

Several of the prisoners returned to their bunks to read a book, reread a letter from home or just relax a little. Hogan, Newkirk, Carter and Kinch walked over to the table and sat down. LeBeau walked over to the stove, picked up the coffee pot and headed over to the table. "Anyone want any coffee?" LeBeau asked.

"I'll have some. Thanks," stated Hogan, holding up his cup for LeBeau to fill.

"Me, too," agreed Carter, holding his to be filled next. "Thanks."

"Might take a little of the chill off," Newkirk declared, as LeBeau was filling his proffered cup. "Thank you, Louis."

"Sounds good. Thanks," said Kinch, when LeBeau got to him.

LeBeau filled his own cup, then returned the pot to the stove to keep it warm. After that, LeBeau went back to join the others.

Newkirk reached in his pocket and pulled out a deck of cards. He shuffled them, paused a moment, then returned the deck to his pocket. Then, he glanced contemplatively in Carter's direction. Unable to miss the attention he was getting, Carter asked, "What?"

A gleam came to Newkirk's eyes as he replied, "You never did tell us about the Air Marshal's daughters…Dandy Andy."

LeBeau nodded. "He's right, mon ami. We're stuck inside. This would be a good time for you to explain."

Carter started to protest. "Uh-uh. I told you guys before, I'm not talking. That's in the past."

Newkirk would not give up. "Come on, Andrew. It's too cold to be out. We need something to help pass the time."

Carter was just as determined. "Well, this isn't it. So, forget it."

"And Flashy Ashley," contributed LeBeau, with a grin. "You have to tell us how you and Colonel Crittendon's brother wound up double dating the aforementioned girls."

"Sounds like they're pretty determined," Kinch told Carter.

"So am I," Carter insisted, standing up and retreating to his bunk, which was located along the wall near the door.

"We just interested, that's all," stated Newkirk, defensively. "Now, come on back to the table, mate. It's warmer here."

Hogan had been listening quietly to the entire conversation, with interest. "He's right, Carter. The room's got to be chillier over there by the door and the window. Why don't you come on back over?"

Carter glanced warily at Hogan. "That an order, sir?"

Hogan shook his head. "No. You're the one that has to decide. But think about it. If it were one of the others in your situation, wouldn't you be prying him for information?"

Carter's gaze wandered from Hogan, to each of his teammates, then back to Hogan. Finally, he reached his decision. He stood up and returned to the table. After sitting down, he said, "You guys aren't going to give me a moment's rest till I tell you what happened, are you?"

"It does sound interesting, mate," declared Newkirk.

"Oui, mon ami. It does," added LeBeau.

"But the decision is yours," Hogan reminded him.

Carter sighed as he finally surrendered. "All right, here's what happened…" Images flashed through Carter's mind, some that he would rather have remained forgotten, as he relayed what happened.

- - -

After the prisoners had created their diversion, Carter had switched places with Sergeant Olsen and traveled out of camp in the back of Oscar Schnitzer's truck. Then, he had been kept hidden by the Underground, as they moved him along towards the coast. There, the British navy had a submarine waiting and he was taken to England.

Upon arrival, he was quickly escorted to the London headquarters, where he had undergone several hours of debriefing. High ranking officers, both British and American were present, as well as their lesser ranking aides.

"I think that about covers it for us," the ranking British officer finally declared. "We'll contact you if we need anything else."

"Same here," the American officer stated. "You'll be notified within a few days regarding your reassignment. In the meantime, you'll be assigned temporary quarters at base. The officer at the front desk will be able to direct you. As of now, you're on three day furlough. Rest up from your trip, recuperate from your ordeal as POW. Do a little sightseeing, if you like."

"Thank you, sir," Carter acknowledged.

The high ranking officers, followed my most of the others, promptly left the room. Carter followed and slowly headed for the exit. He hadn't been expecting this temporary furlough. He wasn't for sure where he wanted to go first. While he was waiting there, a lieutenant rushed up to join him. Carter recognized the man from his debriefing. The British lieutenant had been an aide to one of the ranking officers.

"Hello," the lieutenant cheerfully greeted him. "Names Ashley Crittendon. Thought you might like someone to show you about."

"Thanks," Carter responded. "That would be nice."

"Right you are. I've already spoken with Air Commodore Morris. Got his permission and the afternoon off, if you agree."

"What did you have in mind?" Carter asked.

"Grab a bite to eat. Know a jolly good place," the lieutenant replied. "Then, a little shopping. Get you outfitted right proper for tonight, what?"

Carter was puzzled. "Tonight?"

"Right. Big 'to-do' at Air Marshal Woodhouse's place. Lot's of important dignitaries are expected."

Carter wasn't too sure about this. "And we're going to attend?"

"Right again, old boy. Should have a smashing good time. Roxanne and Tiffany will be there."

"Roxanne and Tiffany?"

"Two of the most beautiful maidens you ever laid eyes on," the lieutenant replied, dreamily. "I'll introduce you. But remember, Roxanne's mine."

"I don't know," Carter responded with uncertainty. "Mary Jane might not approve."

"Mary Jane?"

"My fiancé."

Ashley slapped Carter on the back. "Who's to know, old boy? You just got back from the enemy camp. You're entitled to a little fun."

Carter shook his head. "I'm still not certain."

"Tell you what. Let's grab a bite to eat. Then, go shopping. Get some new outfits. Give me a chance to show you some of the sights," Ashley suggested. "We'll decide about tonight later. I just thought Roxanne and Tiffany would like to meet a real hero."

"I'm not exactly a hero," protested Carter.

"Close enough. You escaped from a Luftwaffe POW camp. Right under Jerries' noses, as it were. Quite the accomplishment, what?"

"I did have some help," Carter declared, as he thought about how grateful he was to Hogan and his crew for their assistance in getting him out of Germany. "I wouldn't mind grabbing a bite, though. I am a little hungry."

"Jolly good. Let's go."

- - -

They had a quick lunch, then Ashley took Carter to one of the more exclusive clothing stores. Carter would have preferred to check out the more conservative outfits, but Ashley kept insisting that he try on the fancier styles. Most of the shirts they tried on were extremely lacey in front. The printed ties were quite flashy. And Ashley was determined that they go with the pin-striped suits.

Finally, Carter found one that both he and Ashley agreed looked good on him. Carter still would have preferred something more conservative, but was consoled by the fact that Ashley's outfit looked even more outlandish than his.

"We need to be in style, what?" Ashley told him. "Air Marshal Woodhouse is career military. Wife's family, entirely different situation. One of the older, more socially prominent families in England."

Carter was astonished. "And we're going to a party at their place?"

"Right you are. Bound to be one of the social events of the season. Give us a chance to get to know the girls, what?"

"You have an invite?"

"Not exactly, old boy. Roxanne's always had a soft spot for soldiers. Overly concerned for our boys being detained in Germany. Bound to be impressed when I show up with you. That should get us in, eh?"

A puzzled Carter stated, "I thought she was your girl."

"She is. Her younger sister, Tiffany, is more your type, anyway. Two of you are bound to get along smashingly."

"I already told you, I'm engaged to Mary Jane," Carter protested.

"And you've just got back from Jerry's prison. Deserve a night out to take your mind off that horrid experience, what? Your lady friend couldn't fault you for that."

"All right," Carter finally agreed, against his better judgment. "What time does this shindig start?"

"Around sevenish. Plenty of time to give you a quick tour of the city. Show you some of the more famous attractions. Those tolerating the bombing, thus far, that is."

A short time later, they left the store carrying the bags which held their new purchases. Carter still had some misgivings about the planned evening, but decided to ignore them. Maybe Ashley was right. As a returning POW, maybe he did deserve a little fun.

- - -

Newkirk's face was a reflection of how shocked he was. "So, you ignored your instincts and crashed the party like Ashley suggested?"

Carter winced. "Crashed? That pretty much describes it."

LeBeau grinned. "You and Ashley Crittendon just barged in on a high society party uninvited? I'm sure that went over quite well."

"Not exactly uninvited," Carter explained. "The girls invited us in. Once we showed up and Ashley introduced me, that is. But that happened a little later. Let me go on with the story."

"Right, mate," Newkirk agreed.

"Just hurry up and get to the part about the girls," urged LeBeau .

Carter took a sip of coffee, then prepared to continue with his tale.

Author's note: I had originally planned to write this as a stand-alone story, but it is going to be longer than I originally planned. Also, instead of just writing about Carter in London, I am including some scenes with the rest of the crew at Stalag 13. Therefore, it will be written and posted in several chapters.