"Shh!" Cpl. Peter Newkirk hissed to Sergeant Andrew Carter, who for some unfathomable reason was higher in rank.
"Sorry," Carter yelped as he stepped on about the thousandth dry twig. The American followed the Englishman to the location they had received from London. Apparently, a very important contact would be arriving there to meet them. "Baby Bear", London called him, since Col. Robert Hogan, the leader of the prisoners' underground operation, went by the radio call sign "Papa Bear".
Newkirk, Carter, Hogan, Sgt. James Kinchloe, and Cpl. Louis LeBeau were all prisoners of war in German Luft Stalag 13, run by the bumbling and gullable Col. Willhelm Klink. Supposedly, it was the "Iron Kommandant" who kept the escape-free record at the camp, but in reality the prisoners chose not to escape. They had tunnels everywhere, but those tunnels were for missions. The POW camp was the perfect place to run a secret military operation, right under Klink's nose.
Unless, of course, Carter ruined it with his indiscretion. "Would you keep quiet?" Newkirk snapped in a low voice. "Don't you remember how we taught you how to whisper?"
Carter scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, sorry, Newkirk, sometimes I forget to whisper 'cause I'm practicing walking quietly." He lowered his voice. "But see, now I'm whispering, so I have a hard time being quiet while I'm- oof!" Carter landed hard in the cold dirt after tripping over a root. "Walking," he groaned as Newkirk helped him back up.
"Carter, how did you ever get to be a Sergeant?" Newkirk sighed as he dusted off the lad's clothes.
"Well, I joined the military, and then I got promoted-"
"You weren't supposed to answer that."
"Oh." Carter furrowed his brow. The others confused him sometimes.
They were quiet for a moment, and Newkirk was starting to wonder what was taking Baby Bear so long. He was snapped out of thoughts when he heard a cry.
"What is it now, Carter?"
Carter frowned. "I didn't say anything."
The two stared at each other for a moment and then rushed to their feet when the cry filled the air again. Whoever that is, they sound awful young, Newkirk thought as he pushed back some bushes. When he came face to face with the source of the noise, he gulped. Wrapped in blankets was a small, red-faced infant.
"It's… it's… it's a baby," Carter supplied helpfully.
Newkirk swallowed again. What did a bunch of POWs know about taking care of a baby? Why would somebody send their child to them? What did the child have to do with their mission? Was his family in danger? So many questions…
Newkirk sighed and turned to his American friend. "Carter, radio the Colonel. Tell him we found Baby Bear."