Price of Chocolate

DISCLAIMER:

All publicly recognizable characters and places are the property of CBS and Ryscher Entertainment. This piece of fan fiction was crated for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Authors Note:

I found this lurking on my hard drive and realised it hadn't been posted. Written in 2011.

Schultz wondered aimlessly through the woods surrounding Stalag 13 a bit past midnight; he was exhausted, and his feet hurt. Most of the camp's guards were ill with food poisoning from bad fish, which left very few guards to cover the interior of the camp and guard towers. He had to take up the slack patrolling the woods. If the prisoner's escaped tonight, there would be no way to stop them, but he really wasn't worried. All prisoners were confined to the barracks, and Colonel Hogan promised no escapes tonight.

He'd missed dinner at the mess, because LeBeau feed him well before the mess even opened. The bright spot in his day, and his good fortune considering what happened to the others. Plus, LeBeau didn't even want anything from him. They'd discussed Klink's plans for the night, talked about some of the guards whom he planned to assign the exterior patrol, a typical conversation for the pair. To Schultz's surprise, LeBeau even made apple strudel for dessert! His night couldn't get any better. Two hours later, everyone who had eaten the meal prepared by the Germans became violently ill. Even the Kommandant was stricken. Schultz didn't understand why the German cooks hadn't realised the fish was bad, but they were also down from it. Knowing the Kommandant, the fish cook would be on his way to the Russian Front as soon as the Kommandant became well enough to write the orders.

Unfortunately, it now meant he had to walk the woods alone, he sighed as he sat down on a log lying his rifle down on the ground. He took out the last chocolate bar in his stash, but more was always attainable. Hogan used the chocolate to persuade the guard to do whatever the American wanted. Schultz figured out Hogan's negotiating habits, and when to hold out for two or even three candy bars. Tomorrow, I can get more, he thought with a wiry grin. As a noise startled him, Schultz ambled to his feet, stuffed the bar in his pocket, and then grabbed his gun. Unconcerned prisoners were trying to escape, his main worry was nearly a month ago two large cats escaped from the zoo when it was hit in an air raid and as yet not caught.* He didn't want to become dinner for the Siberian tigers.

Another noise caused he to aim his rifle towards the sound. The tigers had been seen in the area by some of the guards, so he'd loaded his rifle before he left camp. Terrified the animals roamed in the brush just ahead he closed his eyes, slowly squeezing the trigger hoping to scare the cats away. Instead of hearing the roar of the animal running away, Schultz heard the cry of a man. Horrified, he'd killed one of his men, Schultz ran towards the moan stopping short when he saw who had been shot. "LeBeau," he gasped.

Carter spun around holding a gun on the guard. "Why did you shoot at us?"

"Wh..wha…what are you doing out of camp?" Schultz held his hands and rifle up in the air.

"Are there any other guards in the area?" Carter demanded. Schultz shook his head no. Carter lowered his weapon, then tried to stop the bleeding and bring LeBeau's to consciousness. Two men appeared behind Schultz and one took away his rifle.

"What happened?" Kinch asked unloading the rifle as Newkirk knelt down by LeBeau.

"Schultz shot him," Carter responded tersely moving to allow Newkirk to inspect the wound.

"I…I…I thought he was a tiger," Schultz stuttered out.

"Why did you think I was a tiger?" LeBeau asked coming around, "Oww."

"I heard a noise and the cats have been seen in the area. You aren't supposed to be out here. Is it bad?" Schultz asked genuinely concerned.

"He should be all right; the bullet went all the way through his arm. Nothing major hit," Newkirk said both hands holding a handkerchief tightly around the Frenchman's injured limb. LeBeau looked at his arm and passed out again from the blood. "Blimey, we have to tote him back."

"I'll carry him. A couple of the crates will have to stay here," Kinch said putting the boxes behind the bushes.

That's when Schultz realised that all the men had been carrying shipping crates, and the one LeBeau had been carrying broke open in the fall. Lots of chocolate bars lay on the ground. "What is all of this?"

"Supplies," Newkirk responded, harshly. Carter picked the candy up placing them back in the box.

"Schultz, we'll take LeBeau back to camp, and you're going to stay here to watch the crates," Kinch ordered as Carter picked up the broken package carton.

"I am?" Schultz looked around at the angry faces of the men then at LeBeau, who lay too still and unconscious. "Ja, I am," he lowered his head in shame. Kinch gently picked LeBeau up while Carter and Newkirk carried the crates they could, heading back to camp.

Schultz sat down on a log facing the crates, still in shock about shooting LeBeau and hoping he'd really recover. He'd wondered how the prisoners seemed to always have so many chocolate bars, but never wanted to know from where their supplies arrived. His curiosity got the better of him, did all the boxes contained chocolates? After a quick glance around to ensure no one was watching, he pried the lid off the smaller crate. What he saw took his breath away, and he quickly replaced the lid. The guard sat down on the ground as his mind spinning. Prisoners weren't supposed to have weapons, especially those types of weapons, grenades, explosives, and other things he didn't want to have seen. What was he going to do?

If he turned them in, he might receive an award. However, that would mean every man in Barracks Two would be shot by the Gestapo, possible the entire camp. Knowing the Gestapo, they would kill the guards too for inefficiency, because of what all they'd find in the tunnels. He sighed, no that wouldn't be the best way to go. He'd looked the other way far too often and if anyone ever discovered what all he knew; it would be the end of him. But the wooden shipping boxes contained things he was positive prisoners shouldn't have. Were they planning on taking over the camp for a mass escape? No, that wasn't Colonel Hogan's style; the supplies were for their monkey business, which always worried him.

The chocolate bars which fell on the ground were what Colonel Hogan used to bribe him, now it was clear London sent them. He wondered if the American and British armies worked the same as the German army, all supplies required a requisition form filled out in triplicate. If so, someone in London knew Schultz was on the take, the idea didn't set well with the German guard. As long as it was only his boys in Barracks Two, he didn't mind, but now there was a record somewhere of all the chocolate sent. If Germany captured the England, he'd be found out and shot. However, if Germany lost the war, there was no need for concern, but today the war could go either way. The Allies hadn't even established a beachhead in France, without one Germany couldn't be defeated.

'I know nothing' didn't seem appropriate in this situation. The alternative was equally unattractive. What should he do?

"Schultz," Colonel Hogan said startling the guard not having heard the men return.

"Colonel Hogan! How is LeBeau?" Schultz stood quickly.

"Wilson is with him now. He should be fine. Tell me what happened," Hogan ordered.

"It was an accident. I swear. I thought he was a tiger," Schultz said. Since the shooting he hadn't even thought of the tigers' whereabouts.

"That's what the men told me. However, we have a problem with you seeing the supply drop. What do you think should happen?" Hogan asked arms crossed fury on his face.

"I saw nothing! Nothing!" the look in Hogan's eyes scared the guard. Not the usual lightheartedness, but cold and calculating making Schultz fear the Colonel.

"Not good enough this time. How can I be sure you won't run to Klink and tell him everything in the airdrop?"

"I only saw chocolates!"

"That one's been opened and not shut properly," Hogan pointed to the smallest of the three boxes.

"I promise. I always know nothing about everything. Besides, I'd have to admit I shot without checking out the situation. It could have easily been one of my men. I feel terrible," Schultz looked downward.

"Rightfully so," Kinch said anger in his voice. "You might have killed one of us."

Hogan paced for a couple of moments with his arms wrapped around himself as he walked around the wooden boxes. "LeBeau won't be able to make it to roll call in the morning."

"But the Kommandant insist everyone is in formation otherwise he will be suspicious," Schultz said with big eyes.

"So you will come up with an excuse," Hogan said in a command voice.

"Me?" Schultz swallowed hard looking at the others for support.

"You were the one who shot him, mate," Newkirk said still livid.

"I…I...I don't know what to say," Schultz stuttered.

"You'll come up with something," Hogan said with his command face firmly in place. Then turning towards his men added, "Let's get everything back to camp." Kinch and Newkirk picked up the remaining cartons of supplies.

"Colonel Hogan, you won't tell the Kommandant I shot LeBeau?"

"No, and for your sake you won't either. Right?" Hogan said looking directly into the guard's eyes.

"Right!" Schultz confirmed the adrenaline in his body began to dissipate as he trembled slightly.

"Ensure you don't," Hogan said picking up a box then leaving with his men.

"Do you think he'll say anything, sir?" Kinch asked out of earshot of Schultz.

"Hope not. If he changes his mind then his life will come to an abrupt end," Hogan said as they continued to walk.

"I'd sure hate to see that happen to old Schultzie. He'd be hard to replace," Newkirk said.

"So would I. The safety of the team comes first and before his life. We'll have to wait and see what happens," Hogan answered.

Schultz sat back down on the log. Never before had he feared Colonel Hogan or his men. His concern had been the Gestapo or being sent to the Russian Front. He'd tried to remain a neutral, but now he had to choose. Did he defend his homeland, Hitler, and the Gestapo? Or did he assist the Allies by staying mum about the operation? Exposing the secrets of the camp might cause his death, but his homeland would be safer. Would it be so bad if the Germany lost the war and got rid of the Gestapo?

He reached into his pocket pulling out the chocolate bar studying it before removing the wrapper. Realisation dawned upon him; he was a traitor, a sellout to his country. No, he didn't trade in state secrets or give away classified military information, but the price of his silence had a high cost. He kept the Allies secret about the monkey business in the area. Evan though he didn't actively participate in helping the Allies, long ago he made his decision which couldn't be changed now without forfeiting his life. No, he'd take the secrets of Stalag 13 to his grave. As he unwrapped the candy, he hesitated, the high price of chocolate placing a burden upon his soul. And in other ways, it gave his soul hope too.

* Episode – Monkey Business – there's no distinguishing timeline for this episode, so I took liberties to make it prior to D-Day.