A/N: If you're having a bad day, here's a bit of Hogan's Heroes comedy for you!
"Alright, so we all know the plan?" Hogan tapped the radio on the table and looked around.
"Right."
"Roger."
"Carter?" he asked, to confirm last-minute details before they enacted the plan.
"Get the doohickey in the toolbox and be "working" by the dog compound when Schnitzer comes by," he said.
"Right. LeBeau?"
"Handle the dogs with Schnitzer and get the radio to him for the Underground," the Frenchman replied.
"And don't forget to pick up the code book," Hogan reminded him.
"Oui."
"Newkirk?"
"Already taken care of Klink, sir," he answered, grinning. "Should delay roll call just long enough for Kinch to remotely corrode the wiring Carter will be repairing by the dog compound."
Hogan smiled. "Kinch?"
The radioman held up a small detonator with an antenna. "Nothing big… if Carter's math is right it should just sizzle and burn through the surrounding area. It's slow, but unnoticeable."
"Good." He straightened and checked his watch. "And Schultz should come knocking any second now. Alright- stations."
Carter put the radio in the toolbox and closed it just as Schultz came barging through the door, rousing everyone for roll call. They customarily griped and groaned as they were herded outside, stamping their feet in the cold.
Hogan glanced at his men. Kinch met his eyes and nodded, fingering the button. LeBeau pursed his lips and patted the pockets where he kept the dog treats. He smiled to himself. All should go according to plan-
"SCHULTZ!" Klink stormed out of his office and began running across the compound like a pms-ing chicken- in his socks. He continued hollering for the sergeant, shaking his fists and swinging his riding crop. Schultz hurried over, sincerely concerned for his kommandant's welfare. And mental state.
"Jawohl, mein kommandant! What is the matter?"
"My BOOTS, Schultz! Someone stole my boots! They took my uniform boots, my backup pair, my civilian shoes, and even my slippers!"
Beside Hogan, Newkirk suddenly started coughing.
"Oh how terrible- I once lost my watch for a week," Schultz sympathized.
"I didn't lose them, someone stole them!" Klink gripped the side of his head and stamped his feet.
"Maybe they escaped," Hogan suggested innocently. "How often do you wash your feet, sir?"
Klink shook his finger at him. "Hogan! If I find one of your men stole my boots the entire barracks will get 30 days in the cooler! Search the barracks! Release the dogs! I want every inch of this camp gone over with a fine-tooth comb! Nobody rests until my boots are recovered! Guards! GUARDS!"
Hogan's eyes widened. This wasn't supposed to happen.
The gates to the dog compound were opened and the German shepherds ran out, barking. The alarm started wailing by habit as the guards scrambled to figure out what was going on, and then to search the prisoners' barracks.
"Newkirk, where are the boots?" Hogan asked.
"In the tunnel, sir," he replied uneasily. "Though I did leave 'is slippers behind."
Carter suddenly gasped behind them. "The radio!" he whispered. The toolbox was sitting just inside the door.
"Get it!" he ordered. The dogs were running all over the camp and the prisoners had quickly broken ranks. The guards pushed through to get inside the barracks and only some of the dogs followed them. Carter ran inside, grabbed the toolbox, and ran back out.
Klink was still shrieking as everyone ran around him and Schultz. The dogs and humans overpowered any semblance of reasonable order as they frolicked to the confusing orders. Schultz pressed nervously closer to his commander as some shepherds whipped by.
The dogs had quickly honed in on a scent- but not that of Klink's boots. LeBeau backed up against the wall as three shepherds caught wind of the dog treats in his pocket.
"Back, Heidi! Fritz, Hans! Back! Avec!"
Newkirk ran over to try and help.
Hogan rushed through the chaotic mix of dogs, guards, and prisoners. This jeopardized the plan. With the dogs loose, how could they cover the exchange with Schnitzer?
At that lovely moment, Schnitzer's truck rolled into the compound.
"Kinch! Find Carter!"
"Got it!" Kinch pushed through the crowd at the front of the barracks, beholding the mattress stuffing, broken chairs, and torn-open footlockers instigated by the confused Germans inside. Carter wasn't there, so he fought his way back out.
Unknowingly, the press of bodies against him triggered the button of the detonator in his pocket.
Hogan was fast approaching Schnitzer when a small explosion occurred on one corner of the dog compound.
He stood staring at the small flames and falling debris as the old handler hurried up next to him. "Colonel! What is all this? What was that?"
"That is what it looks like when Carter doesn't get his math right."
Schnitzer observed the mayhem, the searching guards, the kommandant's socks, the ringing alarm, and nodded with wide eyes. Newkirk and LeBeau sprinted across their field of vision for a brief moment, heading towards Klink and Schultz and followed by a pack of bouncing shepherds. "I finally get to see one of your plans in action."
The wind gusted suddenly and the fire from the explosion flared up. Forgetting Schnitzer, Hogan ran towards it, pulling off his jacket and quickly beating down the flames with it. Kinch joined him as they fought the small fire.
"Where's Carter?" Hogan shouted over the noise.
"I couldn't find him!"
"Here I am!"
From behind the barracks the young sergeant ran up and also assisted in batting down the fire. He swung the toolbox over the flames and stamped the source as Kinch and Hogan got it under control. Hogan tossed his jacket aside, breathing hard. He took off his hat and wiped his brow, shaking his head once to clear it. A low headache was starting to form. How did this happen?
He looked back up to where Kinch was trying to explain something to Carter.
"What?"
"Carter, you can't just hit fire with a toolbox," Kinch said.
"Focus! Let's get that radio to Schnitzer and get that codebook!"
"Right."
"Okay, boy!"
Hogan turned swiftly and checked to make sure all the guards were still busy. He could hear Klink hollering from across the yard. It wasn't the original diversion he was hoping for, but it was too late to change anything now.
Schnitzer was running around his truck, chasing dogs and meeting Kinch and Carter. Hogan monitored them, and his heart dropped as he saw something fall out of Schnitzer's pocket.
It was the codebook.
His eyes tracked up from where it had fallen to where another German shepherd had spotted the new toy.
They shared one, brief, dog-versus-human look.
Hogan bolted and the shepherd charged. He dove to the ground but the canine jaws snapped the codebook out of his reach. Scrambling up, he tackled the dog and pulled it back, grabbing its jaw.
"Drop it! Drop it, Wolfgang! Drop it!"
The dog growled in frustration and tilted its head up, knocking the book back.
"No! Bad dog! Drop it Wolfgang!" Hogan shook it slightly, his left hand wrapping around across the dog's belly with his right on its jaw, keeping it on its hind legs. "Drop it!"
He glanced up from the dog and noticed Langenscheidt giving him an odd look. Great. Kinch glanced at him, then spotted the corporal, and quickly moved to intercept before any questions could be asked. The situation growing desperate, Hogan swiftly acted. Wrapping his other arm over Wolfgang's middle, he abruptly jerked the dog. The codebook shot out of Wolfgang's throat and he ran over and picked it up, shoving it in his pocket.
Wolfgang glared at him in annoyance.
"Yeah," Hogan replied.
Schultz ran over, greatly distressed and shedding his gear. "Colonel Hogan, Colonel Hogan please you must help us!" he said frantically. "This is madness!"
"It's not so bad, Schultz-"
"No, Colonel Hogan, first the kommandant's boots are missing, then the prisoners riot and the dogs are loose, and now the kommandant's fallen down the well!"
"What?" Hogan blinked.
"Col. Klink has fallen down the well!"
Hogan stared at the man, figuring that in this universe, Lassie needed to lose weight.
"I hate Mondays," he said to the sky as he started running.
LeBeau and a couple other prisoners and guards were surrounding the well as he met them. "Okay, how did this happen?"
"Colonel, remember how I had the dog treats in my pockets for Schnitzer?" LeBeau said.
"Yes."
"The dogs smelled them and cornered me. Newkirk showed up and helped keep them away but they were chasing us everywhere! So I handed the treats to Newkirk, who slipped them into Klink's pocket. The dogs started chasing him, backed him up to the well, and over he went."
"I see. And where is Newkirk now?"
"He ran inside Klink's quarters."
"Somebody throw me a roooooooooope!" Klink wailed from down below the earth. The guards jumped to action and finally put together enough brains to lower the bucket. There was a splash and a curse; then they were laboring to hoist the Bald Eagle up.
Klink was dripping wet, his monocle fogged, and still wearing socks. "HOOO-gaaaan!" he shouted, though it tapered off pathetically at the end like a broken piccolo.
"I can only suggest chicken soup," Hogan offered.
Schultz appeared and he and Hogan drew Klink's arms over their shoulders and walked him towards his quarters. Klink shivered and complained, while Schultz tried to comfort him. Hogan kept his eyes firmly on the destination, trying to ignore the mayhem continuing behind him.
"I can't believe this! This is an outrage! The prisoners are running unchecked, the guards are being attacked by the dogs- why are the German shepherds attacking the Germans?" Klink whined.
"Because they love them so much," Hogan answered.
"Hmphf, and- ow!" Klink suddenly jerked and started hopping on one foot. Schultz looked down at the rock but Hogan noticed Newkirk slip out of Klink's room during the distraction. The Englander nodded once, and quickly slipped towards them.
"-and I'm still missing my boots!" Klink howled. He continued hopping up the steps, wincing all the way.
"If I may sir, they might be in your bathroom cupboard," Newkirk suggested. "I know I sometimes put my slippers there- you may 'ave put your boots there too!"
"The bathroom? Nonsense!" Klink limped inside, Schultz steadying him. "Schultz, check the bathroom for my boots."
"Jawohl!"
"Well, I'll let you get settled kommandant, take it easy," Hogan walked away as he spoke and grabbed Newkirk's elbow. "The boots?"
"In the cupboard, sir. Since the guards were searching the barracks and the dogs were running loose I had to use the tunnel entrance from Klink's quarters. Got back just in time."
"Great, because now we have to get all these canines…under…control," he slowed and looked around the camp. All the dogs were gone, the alarm was silent, and the guards and prisoners were milling back to the barracks. Glancing at each other, Hogan and Newkirk quickly walked over to find Kinch, Carter, and LeBeau.
The three men were standing beside Schnitzer's truck as the old man climbed back inside. He waved at Hogan as he drove away.
"Mission accomplished, Colonel," Carter grinned.
"Thankfully," Hogan frowned. "What happened to all the dogs?"
The three glanced at each other and shifted. "Well," Kinch began. "You know how part of their compound got damaged…"
"By Carter's math," LeBeau added.
"And since we needed a place to put the dogs…"
"They're in Klink's office," Carter finished.
"Blimey," Newkirk chuckled.
"You didn't."
"We did," they replied. "Langenscheidt and a few other guards helped," Kinch explained.
Hogan pinched his brow as he felt his low-grade headache grow. "First priority: get the compound fixed. Then clean up the barracks. Then we hope that all this can be done before-"
A thunderous, high-pitched voice echoed across the camp. "SCHULTZ!"
"-before Klink finds out."
The barking started again, and Hogan gave Newkirk a long-suffering look.
"What?"
"Newkirk," he said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Today I watched a simple plan spiral into a riot, handled an explosion with my jacket, helped the kommandant out of the well, and gave a dog the Heimlich. It's not even 10. My point is: don't ever let me let you take Klink's boots again."