Okay, I think I've fixed all the mis-spellings of Hochstetter. I don't know why but I still want to spell it with an "o". Anyway, thanks to everyone who pointed it out.
Chapter 2
Sorry Dad, Carter wrote as if he'd actually been talking to his father and they'd been interrupted, a bunch of guys from some of the other barracks wanted to hear about Lebeau.
Anyway, so that's how it was. Lebeau was sick - really sick - but we couldn't do anything because if we tried to get help for him, then Klink and Hochstetter would have found out that the Colonel was gone. I suppose if it had just been Klink, we could have said he had escaped, but Hochstetter is obsessed about the Colonel being a spy and if he'd found the Colonel gone, it would have been game over for all of us.
That meant Kinch had to make a decision: risk everything to get Louie to the hospital, or wait and see if the Colonel came back and take the chance that Lebeau could hold out till then. We all stared at him, waiting to see what he'd do.
"Is there anything else we can do here, Wilson?"
Wilson thought about it. "An ice pack might help a bit with the pain," he said.
"I think there's one in the Colonel's office," Newkirk said. "I'll get it."
"Where can we get ice?" I asked Kinch. "We still haven't cleared out the tunnel to the kitchen after the cave-in two weeks ago."
"Why not?" he sighed, sounding like this was one of those nights when one thing just kept piling up on another.
I didn't know what to tell him. "I guess it just wasn't a high priority. The Colonel's had us all doing other things. I mean, who'd thought we'd need to get to the kitchen so badly?"
"You heard what Carter said about the tunnel?" he asked Newkirk as he was coming out of the Colonel's room with the ice pack. Newkirk nodded.
Kinch motioned for us to gather round, away from Lebeau. "Okay, give that to Foster and tell him to get some snow, maybe some ice if he can find it real quick. Newkirk, I want you and Olsen to get on some German uniforms and go out looking for the Colonel. But first, Baker, I want you to get on the radio and get a hold of the Colonel's contact to see if he's left the rendezvous point yet. If that doesn't help, try other members of the underground to see if you can narrow down the possible locations for them a bit."
"What if the gov'nor comes back while we're out?"
"We're going to get help for Lebeau the minute the Colonel's back. He's the only one they really pay attention to, so hopefully they won't notice that you're gone. That's why I'm only sending the two of you out - that way the discrepancy in the numbers won't be too visible. If they do notice, we'll try to pass you off as escapees. I don't think any unit has any sabotage planned for tonight, so it shouldn't be too hard, but if things look a bit hot when you come back, play it by ear and try to surrender to camp guards if you can. However, if the Gestapo has shown up full force, don't be afraid of cutting out, alright? Lie low till you hear something."
Newkirk didn't look too happy, but he said, "Alright." He and Olsen went down into the tunnels, followed by Baker and Foster, and Wilson went back to Lebeau to give him his shot. I tried to tell myself that we were lucky to have the penicillin, but it just didn't seem like enough.
"Couldn't we do something else Kinch? Something to get help for Lebeau right now?" I whispered, trying to keep quiet.
"Like what Carter?"
"I don't know…" With the Colonel around, it's not often we feel helpless, but boy - that's what I was feeling right now. Kinch took a step towards Lebeau, but I grabbed him. "No wait Kinch, I have an idea! Why can't you ask Klink for help, and say it's you and not the Colonel because he's with Lebeau because Louie's scared. Then when they come for Lebeau, we could all bunch up real tight and Klink will think the Colonel's just somewhere in the middle of all of us."
Kinch shook his head. "That's not bad thinking Carter. And if it was just Klink, I'd probably risk it, even though he'd find it very suspicious not to have the Colonel right in his face. But Hochstetter would never fall for it."
"Maybe he wouldn't find out! I mean, Klink's not going to want to wake him up and have a cranky Hochstetter interfering in the way he runs his camp."
"Maybe Carter, but that's a chance we can't take. If Hochstetter gets one whiff of something going on in this camp he'll be over here like a shot. And once he's proved that the Colonel can get out of camp, then he'll have all the evidence he needs to put the entire barracks in front of a firing squad. And what about the rest of the camp? What about the underground? How safe do you think they'd be then?"
"But we can't just do nothing! What if we didn't even tell Klink? We could ask Schultz to take Lebeau to the hospital and not tell the Kommandant till morning, after Hochstetter's left."
"And what's Schultz going to say once the Kommandant asks why he wasn't told?"
"The Colonel will be back by then. He'll be able to make up some lie to tell the Kommandant."
I could see Kinch thinking it over. He said, "We'll wait and see Carter. The Colonel could be back any minute." What he didn't say was the big flaw in my plan: what if the Colonel didn't come back.
I don't think I've ever felt a night go by more slowly. Foster brought back the ice pack, and that seemed to help for a bit, but Lebeau was getting worse. Kinch and I tried to help him as best we could, but what could we do? Wilson stayed too, just in case. Twice he pulled Kinch away and I watched them talking. The first time they bent their heads together, like they were planning something. The second time it looked like they were arguing; Kinch was waving his hands and Wilson kept glancing over here, but I couldn't make out what they were saying.
At one point Baker came back upstairs and whispered something to Kinch and then Kinch followed him back down into the tunnel. Wilson and I sat quietly, watching Lebeau toss and turn. At first, after we had told him what was wrong, Lebeau had begged us not to do anything till the Colonel came back - he kept making us promise over and over. He told us that it wasn't bad at all and that he didn't want anybody put in danger because he was a little bit sick, especially "mon Colonel". But now he wasn't saying much except crazy things. Like he'd ask us if we'd gotten the eggs or where we put the keys to his motorcycle. Other times, he'd turn his head from side to side and you could hear him arguing with someone who wasn't there; I think maybe it was his uncle. I don't know if he was dreaming or delirious, but his fever had really gone up and I could see Wilson was worrying about it.
Wilson caught me looking at him. He asked me what time it was to distract me.
"About 2:30," I said.
"You know, you could try and get some rest," he told me. "There's no use in everyone being up."
I shook my head. "Not when Lebeau might…" I stopped; it made me feel like a chicken but I just couldn't bring myself to say it. "Not till the Colonel's back safe and I know everything is going to be okay," I said instead.
"Some of the others have gone to sleep," he said, pointing to some of the bunks.
"No they haven't." We only had one lantern lit, so most of the room was dark, but I knew they were awake and watching. "They're lying down, but they're not asleep. They're waiting too."
Kinch and Baker came back up and Kinch had Baker sit with Lebeau while he pulled Wilson and I away to talk to us. "The Colonel met his contact early. Apparently he left him around 11:30."
"Then he should have been back hours ago!" I said.
"Quiet down Carter. We don't need to tell all of Germany."
"Sorry, but jeez, I wasn't that loud."
"I know Carter. I'm sorry - I guess I'm a bit more on edge than I thought. But we have to keep things under control. I don't want to get the others too worried, especially Lebeau."
"I don't think he can hear us now," I said, and Kinch looked at Wilson for an explanation.
"His temperature has really shot up Kinch, and his abdomen is very swollen and rigid. I don't think the appendix has ruptured yet - he probably really would've been screaming if that had happened - but it's getting worse by hour."
"How long do we have Wilson?"
"Kinch, I wish I could tell you. I'm just not qualified for this, and even if I was... Look, all I can say is that the longer it goes, the more risk there is. I'm afraid you're going to have to make a decision."
Kinch looked over at Lebeau, staring for what seemed like forever. "We're going to have to wait," he said.
"Kinch, no!"
"What else can we do Carter?"
"Maybe we could create a diversion. We could burn down the delousing shed or something, and then, in the confusion, we could say we don't know where the Colonel is but Lebeau's sick."
"Even if that worked and they took Lebeau to the hospital, it would still alert Klink and Hochstetter that something was up. It'd take them fifteen minutes - tops - to call a roll call. Then what would happen to the Colonel? What would happen to all of us if they caught him outside the wire - outside and coming back in. They'd know he wasn't escaping."
"But Kinch, Lebeau could die."
"Don't you think I know that?" he snapped at me. Then he got himself under control, "Carter…Try to understand, I can't just think of one man."
"What about asking Schultz not to tell Klink?"
"I thought about it Carter, but there's a Gestapo guard stationed just outside the cooler. He'd see what was going on and report it to Hochstetter."
"But we have to do something!" I couldn't stand the thought of waiting around anymore. Lebeau's eyes were open, but I'd swear he wasn't seeing us and he was moaning nearly all the time now.
"Andrew, please, I need you to back me up on this," Kinch said, and the way he was looking at me, I just couldn't argue with him anymore, Dad. He needed me to agree. So I nodded and didn't say anything else. I knew he wanted to help Lebeau, and I don't even want to think about what he had to go through when he made that decision. But it was so hard to sit there and not do anything! All I could think about was how Lebeau was in so much pain and we were all just standing around like a pack of dummies. And I also couldn't help thinking about how I'd feel if I was lying there and my friends weren't helping me.
So we sat there. We kept mopping Lebeau's forehead to keep him cool and someone got some more snow for the ice pack, but that's about all we could do. He woke up and was sick a few times, but mostly he lay there moaning and muttering to himself some more - not really awake, but not really asleep either. Kinch and I didn't talk much. The whole night began to remind me of those Sunday afternoons when Mom would drag me over to Aunt Irene's to visit and everyone would get so quiet that you could hear that big old grandfather clock in the front room ticking away.
Around 4:30, Newkirk and Olsen came back. They reported to Kinch in hushed voices, but no one really had to say anything. We could see they were alone and they could see that Lebeau was still here. Olsen climbed up onto his bunk and sat there, just staring sadly in our direction and smoking a cigarette, but Newkirk started pacing. At least till he smacked a bunk frame across the room in frustration, making us all look up suddenly and getting Kinch to pull him into the Colonel's office for a talk.
I was really getting worried about the Colonel now too. He should have been back long before, and I could see the guys checking their watches every so often, thinking the same thing. But as bad as it was for us, it had to have been a hundred times worse for Kinch. Every time he looked at Lebeau, you could see him second guessing his decision and having to make it all over again. On top of that, there were times when I could see that he was probably wondering what the Colonel would have done; maybe he even thought that the Colonel would have had an answer, and that somehow he'd missed it.
Oh, don't get me wrong, when he looked at us he made sure to look confident so we wouldn't start panicking - Kinch is good that way - but once, when Lebeau let out a loud cry, Kinch clamped his hand down hard on his mouth, and then glanced at me before quickly turning his head away. For just a second, he'd been more worried about hiding the noise and not about what Lebeau was going through and that kind of surprised me. But from the way he got embarrassed, it was easy to tell that he'd overreacted because he was getting more and more anxious for the both of them. I felt bad for him. Boy, that must be one of the hardest things about being in charge - pretending you're not feeling what you're feeling so everyone else will be okay. Probably even the Colonel can't do it every second.
Close to 5:00, Kinch broke the silence. "Wilson, if there's nothing more you can do, you might as well go back to your barracks. Roll call is in half an hour, and one way or another, things will come to a head then," he said quietly. There was something about his voice that sounded so final.
Wilson sighed and got up to leave. "Okay Kinch. But if anything changes, get me quick."
"Yeah."
It was quiet again for twenty minutes or so. Lebeau was still groaning loudly, even sounding like he was close to screaming a couple of times, but there didn't seem to be a whole lot of change. I got up - I just couldn't sit there anymore.
"Where you going, Andrew?" Newkirk asked me in a whisper.
"I thought I'd go down in the tunnel and see if the Colonel's back. Maybe he's just come in and he's taking his time changing or something."
"I'll go with you Carter," Kinch said, hushing his voice like Newkirk had. "I need to stretch my legs." But that wasn't really why he wanted to come. You know what I said about Kinch always having to wait and how I think it gets to him? Now I knew how it felt. It's got to be one of the worse things I could imagine - I don't know how he can do it all the time. But tonight had been really bad and he needed to get away, even if it was just for a few minutes.
As soon as I got off the ladder, I was straining my ears, trying to hear any noise that meant the Colonel was back. Kinch didn't bother with that; he started off right away down the tunnel towards the emergency entrance. I followed him, and we were about half way there when we saw him.
"Colonel! Boy are we glad to see you!" I started to say, but then I noticed that Kinch had stayed back. It was like he was frozen.
"There's lipstick on your neck," was all he said to the Colonel. The sudden edge in his voice brought me up short. I wondered what was Kinch doing - we had to get the Colonel up top as soon as possible!
The Colonel sort of swaggered up to me with a bit of a smug look on his face, and draped an arm over my shoulders, pulling me a few steps towards Kinch. Then he put his other arm over Kinch's shoulder. "Gentlemen, let me tell you about my evening - "
Kinch threw the Colonel's arm off before he could say anything else. "You're needed upstairs, NOW," was the only thing he said before he stomped off back towards the tunnel entrance.
"What's with him?" the Colonel asked me.
"Colonel, you've got to get upstairs real quick - Lebeau's sick!"
That happy look was gone in a second and he was all business. He tore off after Kinch, changing his jacket and hat on the run, and by the time I was climbing out of bunk entrance, he was rushing out to get the Kommandant to call the hospital.
----
Carter stopped writing and stretched his arms. In roughly half a day, he'd nearly gone through the writing tablet he'd bought a few months ago. The Colonel and Wilson weren't back from the hospital yet, so there was still no news. He crossed his arms on his work counter and rested his chin on top of them, looking morosely at what he had written. He wanted to keep going; he felt like he hadn't even gotten to the important part yet. His hand was killing him and his eyes were burning, but he felt like he couldn't be done until he'd somehow gotten rid of this awful feeling that was like a clump of miserable sludge inside him.
After going out to scrounge up some more paper, he started writing again.
----
Anyway Dad, things got pretty hectic this morning for awhile there. The Colonel was demanding help, but Klink was stalling because it was early morning and I guess he didn't want to think too hard or something. After that, he must have been digging in his heels and being stupid just for the heck of it, cause it just seemed as if he was refusing to see how bad things were.
The thing is, he'll only move quickly if he's the one in trouble, since that's the only time he cares enough. Otherwise it throws him off when the Colonel disrupts his routine, and then he either can't make a decision, or he doesn't want to. Usually, the Colonel uses psychology and makes Klink think that whatever he's doing is his idea, when all along he's just doing what the Colonel always wanted him to do. But today the Colonel couldn't do that, cause Lebeau couldn't wait, which is what he kept trying to get through Klink's dumb head.
Plus Hochstetter was around, so I guess Klink didn't want to look weak and give into the Colonel while the Gestapo was there. Klink still wanted us to have roll call, despite Schultz backing up the Colonel and telling him that Lebeau was really sick. (Lebeau's is Schultzie's favourite prisoner - without him there's no apple strudel.) Finally, Hochstetter took his stupid prisoner and left - good riddance - and the Colonel, who just about had steam coming out of his ears by now, got us all to line up for roll call instead of arguing any more with Klink.
It's a good thing Klink didn't do any speeches afterwards though - he would have had a riot on his hands! Everyone was swearing under their breaths like all get out and I don't blame them! I don't think I've ever been as mad as I was then. Newkirk called him a pompous blowhard, and that's what he is. Before, I'd always thought he was okay. Not someone I'd want to know, cause he's a bully with people under him, and a coward to anyone over him, but at least he was never cruel or anything.
But this morning, the way he was fussing around and wouldn't think of Lebeau, and just had to have things his way so that he could look big and think well of himself, I could almost believe that in a way, that's nearly as bad as anything else. People like him are the reason the Nazis are in power in the first place. They were either too scared or too wrapped up in themselves to stand up when they should have. I know this doesn't sound like me, and maybe it's only because I was so worried about Lebeau, but this morning I couldn't see how the Colonel can talk to Klink everyday and never just haul off and deck him.
When the roll call was done, that's when he finally ordered a guard to get the truck so that Lebeau could be taken to the hospital. Though I know it bugged him to have to ask, the Colonel kept his cool and sucked up to Klink enough so that he and Wilson could go too. In the mean time, we went into the barracks to help Kinch move Lebeau.
Dad, we tried our best, but he still screamed when we picked him up. You probably heard guys cry out like that in the First War - your friends - so you know what I mean. It's strange, but I think it's even worse remembering it now than it was hearing it then. Then, I was too busy concentrating on hurting him as little as possible. But now…well, it might not have been the worst scream of pain in the world, but I know that I definitely don't want to hear anyone sound like that again.
But I guess that's a dumb thing to expect in a war.
So the Colonel and Wilson went off with Lebeau, and we were left to wait again. I think Newkirk was put out that we didn't all get to go with them, especially since we were the ones who had sat up with him all night. I felt the same way, but I knew Klink would never have allowed it, and the Colonel hadn't had the time to convince him. But it didn't matter because everybody was about to get a whole lot more angry about something else.
I don't know how to describe to you what Kinch looked like that morning. He's a pretty quiet guy most of the time, and so it's hard to know what he's feeling. He was standing in the middle of the barracks, all stiff like. You could see the storm brewing in him. I always thought that comparisons like that were dumb, but it was true. I could see the anger gathering up in him, building like a strong twister. And his eyes were so cold and his face so closed up - everyone stopped because we knew something was about to happen. Then all of a sudden he just roared and punched the stove pipe! Knocked it right out so that the soot went flying!
"That inconsiderate son of a bitch!" he shouted.
"Look mate, I know Klink - "
"Not Klink, Newkirk. I'm talking about our goddamned CO!" he spat out, and then stormed out of the barracks without explaining.
"What the hell is going on?" Newkirk asked me.
I didn't really want to tell them, but I knew Newkirk would bug me till I did. "The Colonel had lipstick on his neck. He was gone all night because he was with a girl." Somehow, I couldn't look them in the eye when I said it, as if I'd done something wrong just by being the one to break the news.
Newkirk didn't say anything for a moment. No one did. When he finally did speak, it was like he couldn't quite believe that the Colonel would do that, "He…he was out on a date? He risked all of us for a BLOODY DATE?"
I didn't answer him.
"Lebeau could have died! We ALL could've!" he yelled. Then he stared at me for a few more seconds - till I looked away - before stalking off like Kinch had. All the other guys crowded around me then and started talking at once, but I didn't want to hear it. I was tired and what I wanted was to go to bed, but now they were all shouting all over one another and I settled for getting away from everybody.
So I came down here. I tried to work, but I couldn't concentrate on anything. Even after an hour or so had passed, I still didn't want to go back up.
What I was really bothered about was the idea of seeing the Colonel when he came back. (I sure as heck didn't know he'd be gone this long!) I didn't want to face him, but I didn't know why. It took some thinking, but I figured it out eventually. I was disappointed in him. I was mad because I felt like he'd let us all down, and even the idea that he could've let us down made it even worse.
But then I remembered all the stories you told me about your CO when you were fighting in France in the first war - about how he was so hard on you all, and that's when I got the idea of writing you this letter, Dad.
I remember saying how I couldn't understand how you could like someone like that. But you said you could because you could sympathize with all the pressure he was under. I remember you telling me, "He wasn't there to be my friend. He was there to make sure we got the job done and to make sure we knew what to do to keep ourselves safe. He was taking care of what was important." And then you told me that if I ever went to war, that I'd be lucky to get that. So I should just accept it, because anything more was icing on the cake.
But see, you've got to understand how we all think of Colonel Hogan - it's like he's one of us, but on the other hand, we depend on him because it's like he can get us out of anything. I've always thought that there was nothing he couldn't do. I suppose though, that I just wanted to feel safe, and it's easier to be brave when you think there's someone around who's always going to have the answer and who's always going to take care of you.
Then I got to thinking about all that Colonel Hogan has to do. He has to make all the plans and he has to keep us all in line and take care of all of us. (And by us I mean the whole camp!) He has to deal with the Germans and make all of the big decisions. So I suppose I'm being really unfair by expecting him to be perfect on top of everything else. If you get to expecting the impossible from someone all the time then maybe it's your fault, and not theirs, if you get disappointed.
Anyway, so that's what I've been thinking about. I have to admit I still feel a little let down - it's kind of hard to let go of the idea that someone you admire can do no wrong - but I'm going to try and get over it the best I can. I figure I owe the Colonel that much. Maybe I'll go see what the others are up to. Hopefully everyone has cooled down a bit by now.
