Author's Note: I don't own Hogan's Heroes. This is a fictional story any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.
A soft breeze blew in through the open window of the officer's quarters in barracks two. It was early summer at Stalag Thirteen, and Colonel Robert Hogan stood off to the side of the window gazing at the barbed-wire fence that surrounded the prison camp. Hogan, who was a captured American pilot, was also the commander of an underground espionage unit, who's duties ranged from sabotaging the enemy and the passing of information to the smuggling of defectors to London.
Recently though, Hogan's operation had been forced to the side-lines after one tough and almost costly mission that had alerted a persistent Nazi general, Dietrich Lutzen, to the operation of an espionage unit in the Hammelburg area. Since then, extra attention was paid to the town, the surrounding farms, and also, the Stalag.
Hogan crushed his cigarette and started to pace. He didn't normally smoke cigarettes, as he preferred cigars, but tonight he was restless. The men under his command were in the other room sleeping, except for Sergeant James Kinchloe, known as Kinch to his friends, who was in the tunnel waiting for the transmission from London about their orders.
Hogan didn't know why they bothered with the weekly orders. They had been the same for the past two months, 'Risk of discovery too high. Stand down.'
Hogan knew morale among the men was dropping because, without the missions, Stalag Thirteen felt like any other prison camp. There has to be a way to direct suspicion away from Hammelburg. Hogan thought, continuing to pace. He had been thinking and pacing this way for the past handful of nights. He had to do something before he and the boys went stir-crazy.
Hogan was pulled from his thoughts by a soft rapping at the door. "Enter." he commanded, softly.
The door opened, quietly, and Kinch came in wearing a discouraged look on his face.
"Let me guess," Hogan said, sourly, "Risk of discovery too great, stand down."
"Yes, sir." Kinch said with a sigh, before adding, "This has to end. There's got to be a way to get Lutzen off our backs."
Hogan ran a hand through his hair, "I don't know, I didn't expect Lutzen to be so dogged." he met Kinch's gaze and noticed that he looked as haggard as Hogan felt."You should head to bed, you can get another half-hour until roll call."
Kinch almost protested, but he nodded and left his commanding officer's quarters.
Once he was alone again, Hogan sat down on the bunk, thinking.
There just has to be a way.
1***************************************************1
The door to the barracks banged open, revealing an over-weight, white-haired man in a German uniform. "RAUS!" he called out, stepping into the common room, "Everybody up, up, up. Roll call in ten minutes." he put the emphasis on the word 'ten' drawing it out.
"Aww, Schultz, put a sock in it." came the irritated reply.
"Newkirk, that's not very nice." Sergeant Andrew Carter said, climbing out of the bottom bunk, "Schultz has his duty."
"Thank you, Carter." Sergeant Hans Schultz said, pleasantly.
"Yes, thank you, Carter." Corporal Peter Newkirk repeated, sarcastically. He jumped down from the top bunk, promptly stubbed his toe and cried out in pain. He shot the American a dirty look. Schultz chuckled, as he continued waking up the others.
"Alright, Schultz." Hogan said, as he entered the common room and took the sergeant by the arm and lead him to the door, "We'll be ready for roll call."
The guard continued to chuckle as he left. As soon as the door was closed, Newkirk turned to Hogan, "Please, tell me we 'ave a mission."
Hogan shook his head, "Not this week."
"Mon colonel, we need to get back into action." Corporal Louis LeBeau said, as he stoked the fire in the stove.
Hogan glanced absently at his men and sighed. He knew they were right, he'd had this conversation with Kinch many times in the past two months. The problem was convincing London that they could do it without getting caught.
"Just make the coffee, LeBeau."
He walked to the bunk that held the entrance to the tunnel and pressed down on the latch. This caused the bottom bunk to raise and a ladder to drop down. Hogan grabbed hold of the ladder and quickly descended.
"Gee, he seemed in a bad mood." Carter said, breaking the silence. He, like the others, was staring after his commander.
"How would you feel after saving the whole operation from discovery, only to have London side-line you for months on end." Kinch said, soberly, heading for the tunnel.
"Oui, but it doesn't feel so good on our end either." LeBeau countered, as he set up breakfast so he could start it right after roll call.
"Yeah, but that's something the colonel 'as on 'is mind, too." Newkirk said, pulling a tea bag out of his precious stockpile, "I sure 'ope the red cross packs 'ave tea in 'em. I'm gettin' low."
"You can have some of the tea my mom sent me." Carter, who was in the process of pulling on his boots, offered generously.
"Chamomile? No, thanks, Andrew." Newkirk said, then whispered to LeBeau, "It's not real tea."
"Oh, don't be such a snob, Pierre." LeBeau said, putting the coffee on the stove, "Why, from how you talk you'd think the British invented tea."
"We didn't invent it." Newkirk said, putting the bag in his cup and placing it to the side of the stove, "We just introduced it to the civilized world."
"We fought a war over it." Carter said, with a grin.
"Yeah, ya threw boxes of perfectly good tea into the sea." Newkirk said, shaking his head, "What a waste...why, it isn't civilized."
"We had our reasons." Carter defended. Newkirk opened his mouth to deliver his own retort, when Hogan reappeared, with Kinch right behind him. "Let's not rehash the entire Revolutionary war, huh, fellas?" Hogan said, with a grin on his face, "Now, let's get out there for roll call."
Without another word, he left the building.
"What gives, Kinch?" Newkirk asked, "That's quite the difference from ten minutes ago."
"Oui, he has a bounce to his step." LeBeau added, heading out to the parade ground.
"The Colonel will tell you after roll call." Kinch said, there was a twinkle in his eye as he fell into his usual spot in line. Schultz counted down the line. A big smile appeared on his face when he reached the end and found all the prisoners there.
"Colonel Hogan, this is the ninth week in a row that everyone is here and on time, and no monkey business." Schultz said, "I am so happy."
"Anything for you, Schultz." Hogan said as he tucked his thumbs into the pockets of his bomber jacket and rolled on the balls of his feet.
"Danke, Colonel." Schultz said, wondering briefly why the American was in such a good mood. He almost asked, but caught himself, knowing that if Hogan was happy then something was up. If something was up, Schultz would be happier not knowing anything about it. Schultz pushed his worries aside and turned his attention to the Kommandant, who was walking towards them yelling for a report.
The men waited anxiously, hoping that the kommandant, Colonel Wilhelm Klink, wouldn't launch into one of his lengthy speeches on the state of the war. Unfortunately, they were out of luck. Klink rambled on about the silliness of the Allied command defying the German forces. That in a matter of months the Germans would achieve total victory and they would all live under the rule of the glorious Third Reich. The prisoners fidgeted and engaged in their usual jeers and taunts. After a half-hour, Klink finally wrapped up his speech and told Schultz to dismiss the men.
They filed back inside the barracks. Hogan stepped over to the stove and poured himself a cup of coffee.
"Go on, guv." Newkirk urged, "Don't leave us in suspense."
Hogan grinned and moved over to the table to sit down. "I talked to London." He started and motioned to his men to gather around, "I explained to them that we are always under the threat of exposure...that Lutzen is just like Hochstetter. Dangerous, but manageable." out of the corner of his eye, he saw Newkirk cringe at the mention of the S.S. general, "I managed to convince them that we can continue operations, at least to some extent."
The men cheered and talked amongst themselves about the good news. Hogan held up his hand for silence, "They have an agent who will be in Dusseldorf tomorrow night. They have some sort of package and we're to pick it up then get it to the sub for London."
"That's a milk-run, Colonel" Newkirk complained, "I could do that in me sleep."
Carter plopped himself down on the bench beside the colonel and said, rather dejectedly, "Gee, Colonel, I was hoping we'd have a demolition mission."
Hogan rolled his eyes, "I'm sorry this mission isn't to your liking, but the only missions that London feels comfortable with giving us is milk-runs. So, until we figure out a way to get Lutzen out of our hair, we take what we can get.." Hogan stood, swallowed the last of his coffee, and went to his office. "Let me know when breakfast is ready." he said, as he closed the door behind him.
The heroes sat in silence for a moment, until Carter spoke up, "Gee, guess we shouldn't have been so picky."
LeBeau nodded, "Oui, Lutzen has been weighing on his mind."
"Lutzen's been on everyone's mind." Kinch said, rubbing his neck.
Newkirk pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, stuck one in his mouth and lit it, "That is one kraut I'd love to take care of." he said, darkly, causing his three friends to glance at him, slightly concerned. It had been a little over two months since Newkirk had been taken captive and tortured by Lutzen. Newkirk had been in bad shape for a couple weeks, but he had healed. Physically, he was completely normal, but certain things he said and things he did, gave his comrades some cause for concern that he hadn't completely healed emotionally.
"Killing him isn't an option." Kinch said, softly, but firmly. "That would prove that his spy ring was in the Hammelburg area."
Newkirk's eyes met Kinch's unwaveringly, "Who said anything about killing 'im?" He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, "I was thinking, per'aps, we send 'im to jolly old England." he gave his mates a cocky grin, "Who knows what's in that twisted mind of 'is."
"How would we mange to do that, Pierre?" LeBeau asked seriously, as he stired the pot of porridge. Porridge wasn't real food, at least to his way of thinking, but the rest of the prisoners liked it. "I don't think even we could manage to kidnap an S.S. general in the middle of Hammelburg."
Newkirk opened his mouth to reply and shut it quickly. "I 'adn't gotten that far." he admitted, scratching the back of his head.
"We could lure him out." Carter piped up, the gears in his mind moving, "Yeah, we could set up a trap...something he can't refuse, and grab him and fly him to London."
"You know something? You guys are terrible at plans." Kinch said, with a grin, "Look, Lutzen is the type of guy who would see that coming. He's like the colonel, a tactician."
"A what?" Carter asked, with a confused frown on his face.
"Someone who thinks things through and studies the good and bad sides before making a decision." Newkirk explained, smoking steadily. Kinch was right, of course. Lutzen was many things, but he wasn't an idiot. "Kinch is right, that won't work...but, we 'ave to do smething."
"Agreed, but going off half-cocked is the surest way to bring the house down around our ears." Kinch pointed out.
"We will discuss it after breakfast, huh?" LeBeau asked, "It's ready now."
"I'll get the Colonel." Carter said, jumping up from the table.
"Let's do some more thinking before we take any ideas to the Colonel." Kinch said, to LeBeau and Newkirk, who nodded.
1***********************************************************1
The elevator door slid open and the young bell-hop pushed a rolling tray off the elevator and down the hall. He stopped at several rooms, knocking on the doors and delivering breakfast to the hotel's residents. He continued down the hall until he reached room 208, knocking softly, he called out,
"Zimmerservice, ich habe die allgemeinen Frühstück."
The door opened and a young, blond-haired corporal smiled, "I'll take it, danke." The corporal took the indicated tray off the cart and took it into the room, returning, he handed the bell-hop a coin.
"Is that my breakfast, Wilburt?" a voice bellowed, from the bathroom.
"Ja, Herr General." Corporal Wilburt Fielderbach replied, putting the finishing touches on the general's table. The bathroom door opened and revealed the general, a tall, broad-shouldered man in his mid-fifties with greying hair.
"You may go eat your own breakfast, Wilburt." General Dietrich Lutzen said, "When you're done, get the car ready."
"Jawohl, Herr General." Wilburt said, dutifully closing the door behind him on his way out.
Lutzen sat down at the table and dug in to his breakfast. As he ate, he picked up the mail sitting on the tray, he flicked through the envelopes. Finding a telegram marked urgent, he tore open the envelope and skimmed the sheet paper. A slow smile spread across his face, after almost two months of no news regarding the ring of spies that had humiliated him, he finally had a lead.
The Gestapo were following the trail of a missing roll of microfilm, and it was believed that a courier was traveling to Dusseldorf from Berlin with the film. Because the information on the film was incredibly damaging to the Third Reich, he felt sure that the notorious Papa Bear, the leader of the spy ring he was seeking, would be the recipient. When Papa Bear goes to Dusseldorf to receive the microfilm, Lutzen thought, I will be there to capture him.
Finishing his breakfast with renewed gusto, he smiled even deeper with his next thought,
Maybe I'll even find my Englander.
Translation:
Zimmerservice, ich habe die allgemeinen Frühstück. - Room service, I have the General's breakfast.
P.S. Hey, new story, hope you guys enjoy it. I'm still plotting like mad, but I have a pretty good idea were this story will be going.
As always, if you have any questions, comments, or criticisms, feel free to send me a PM or just leave a review. Much love (;