Chapter 2:

Hogan and Rick were sitting at a counter in the dining area, both having a couple of drinks. At the moment, the two of them were laughing at their days back in college. The dumb mistakes and decisions they decided to make back then. Looking back on them now, both men were wondering what they were thinking back in their youth.

"Remember when we threw that huge party in the basement and snuck in all those girls?" Rick chuckled.

"Dear God. We were lucky Major Beidleman didn't find out. Our rear ends would have been kicked clear to Helsinki." Hogan replied, laughing.

"He would've done worse than that. He would've probably had us demoted all the way back to private again."

"Probably right...ah, good old Major Beidleman. I wonder whatever happened to him."

"Ah, who knows. Maybe he got so sick and tired of dealing with wild college boys he decided to resign from the military and owns some shoe store now."

Hogan raised an eyebrow and grew puzzled.

"Why do you say 'shoe store'?" He asked.

Rick shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

"First thing that came to my mind."

Hogan smirked and took another sip of his drink.

"Just glad he didn't catch us when we decided to throw those water balloons down from the roof of our dorm." The colonel continued.

Rick nearly choked on his drink, somehow managed to swallow it, and started bursting out in laughter.

"Who's idea was that, anyways?" He cackled.

"I think it was Mickey's that time." Hogan answered, grinning.

Mickey Rochester was Rick and Hogan's other roommate they had throughout college. The three of them became close friends and did some of the dumbest and craziest things any college kid could ever dream of doing. Mickey was made a captain, Rick had been promoted to major, and Hogan continued to hold his title as colonel. Once they had graduated from school, Mickey had accepted an incredible job opportunity out in Los Angeles, California, leaving Rick and Hogan behind in Cleveland. The three still remained in touch with one another and planned someday to get together again like old times.

"How do you think good old Mickelberry's doing?" Rick asked, taking another drink of his beverage.

"I don't know. Last time I heard from him, he was planning a trip to Puerto Vallarta," Hogan said.

"That guy goes just about everywhere in the world. He's always traveling and seeing new places. I wanna do that as soon as the war's over. I want to go to just about every place I can: Rome, Morocco, Milan, Paris...what about you?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'd like to marry Maggie, have a couple of kids and be a father, maybe do a little traveling before settling down. I'd love to take Maggie to Oahu for a vacation or honeymoon."

"Robert Hogan, getting married. You really are settling down, aren't you?"

Hogan gave a small smile and grabbed his beverage.

"Already got a ring picked out. Plan on asking her where we had our first date in the park." Hogan took another drink.

"Well, all be damned. How long have you been planning this?"

"Oh...couple months now."

"Hate to break it to yah, but married life isn't all that exciting. I love Carla dearly, but some days I wish I could go back to my younger years and fool around again."

"Don't tell Carla that."

Both men started laughing again and were nearly in tears from laughing so hard.

"Sounds like you two are enjoying your evening," a familiar and friendly voice said, from behind the two officers.

Rick and Hogan turned to find General Berkman himself standing there. The old man was wearing a gray trench coat, wearing a black hat, and was giving his usual welcoming smile.

General Alfred Berkman was about 6'1", an inch taller than Hogan was, had very light blue eyes that were always friendly, and a little heavy, but not much. He had hair that was almost completely silver besides the few that remained a lightish gray brown color.

"General, good to see you again," Hogan said, sincere.

"Good to see you, too, Robert. Major." Berkman replied.

"General," Rick greeted.

"What brings you here on such short notice?" Hogan asked, curious.

"Those Krauts are at it again, Colonel. They had another air raid on Paris last night. 174 killed and another 102 missing." The general answered softly.

The colonel shook his head, his eyes showing sympathy for those who were lost and were suffering as result from his country's arch enemy.

"Those poor people...how much damage?" He asked sadly.

"More than I can imagine, Robert. I have men out there in France right as we speak looking for any survivors...it's not good, I'm afraid." Berkman answered.

"Those rotten Krauts. What did those poor people ever do to them?" Rick hissed.

"Nothing," Hogan said, heartbroken. "That's what makes it worse than it already is."

"What do you want us to do, General?" Rick asked, ready to help in any way he could.

"There's a new ball bearing plant that's being built near the city of Hammelburg." Berkman began.

"I've heard of Hammelburg before. I could figure out how to get there." Hogan answered.

"I'd like to send you and your men out over Germany and bomb it. Do anything you can to cause the most damage possible. It'll set the Krauts back farther in their chances of winning the war." The old man continued.

"When do you want us to do it?"

"As soon as possible."

Hogan nodded.

"We'll head out tomorrow night. Just need a bit to think of a military tactic," he said.

"Knew I could count on your group of men, Colonel." Berkman gave a small smile.

"Don't worry, General. We'll give those Krauts a taste of their own medicine, believe us." Rick replied.

"Not too worried when Colonel Hogan and his men are on the job." The old general answered.

The colonel smirked and nodded.

"Take care, General. We'll see you soon," Hogan said friendly.

Berkman waved goodbye to both officers, then headed off for the night. Once he was gone, Hogan and Rick turned back to face one another.

"174 killed...that's terrible." The major sadly spoke.

"And another 102 missing." Hogan added.

"I just don't get it. How can those Krauts be so heartless? Doesn't Hitler know what he's doing is wrong?"

"I'm afraid not, Rick. We wouldn't be in this war had it never been for the Rise of Hitler. I've heard the Gestapo are even worse than Old Crazy Eyes himself."

"God, I hope I never run into one of those guys. Some of the stories I've heard, Rob...what those poor people had to suffer from...they're not even human!"

"I know...and that's why we're fighting this thing. Those innocent and terrified lives are depending on us to save them from Hitler and his zombie like minions."

"You're right."

Hogan gave a comforting smile.

"Come on. Let's go round up the boys and tell them what's ahead for us."

Rick gave a faint grin and nodded. He was amazed with how calm and level headed Hogan always was in hard times. No matter how much stress or pressure he was under, no matter what the situation was, the colonel always stayed focused and somehow figured out how to keep his emotions in tact while on duty. Rick was proud of his best friend and respected him more than any other person he knew in life. He could never do Hogan's job. He would not know how to control his feelings and not have them interfere with work.

The two officers got to their feet, left the dining area, and made their way over to the barracks where Hogan's men resided while off duty.


Three RAF and five USA Army Air Corps airmen. That was who made up Hogan's commanding team. The eight men all brought an important quality to the team that made it run so efficiently and well.

Wiley, USA Private Gibson, and USA Corporal Hamilton stood beside Private Brooks, another Army Air Corps soldier, as they watched their four friends in the middle of a very intense game of poker. The players, McAvoy, USA Sergeant Anderson, RAF Sergeant Pearce, and RAF Corporal Ellis, were all keyed in on what was going on around them and each move their opponent made. It looked like Anderson was taking it home at the moment. Gibson had his money on Pearce losing the game, and Hamilton on McAvoy. Wiley had to pay both men if both Pearce and McAvoy lost. Otherwise, if their person won the game, the loser had to pay $75 to the winner.

Ellis put down a card on the table, raised his earnings, then looked up at Anderson, who was sitting across from him.

"Your turn, Sanders," the corporal said, with a cigar in his mouth.

Sanders was Anderson's nickname to the other men. When all the men first met, they always forgot the sergeant's name and mistook him for the name Sanders instead. It grew on the man and eventually, it just became normal among the eight of them.

Anderson nodded, rubbed his chin with his fingers, and stared at his hand carefully. Any move he made next was either a 'make it or break it'. After taking a drag on his cigarette, Anderson made his move and nodded to McAvoy, indicating his turn.

While McAvoy planned his next strategy, Wiley leaned towards Brooks.

"What do you think? Who's gonna take it?" He asked.

"At the moment, it looks like Sanders, but it could be anyone at this rate." Brooks answered softly.

Wiley nodded and went back to watching his friends.

"You just wait. Pearce is gonna plummet to his death at any moment." Gibson murmured, cocky.

"Not if McAvoy has anything to do with it." Hamilton remarked, smug.

"Nah, you just wait and watch. Brooks is dealing; we all know Pearce is gonna lose!"

"We'll see. I'm not yet convinced."

McAvoy made his move, and it all came down to Pearce.

The RAF sergeant's eyes nearly fell out of their sockets, but the shock quickly passed.

"I won." He gasped. "I won! Hahahahaha! I won! Victory is mine! Yes!"

Hamilton cheered and snapped his attention to Gibson.

"Ha! Pay up, Mr. McAvoy!" He cried.

Gibson grumbled something under his breath and roughly handed over $75.

"Brooks! What happened tonight? Pearce doesn't stand a chance when you're dealing usually!" Ellis exclaimed, stunned.

"My game must be off tonight. I can usually cheat Pearce out other nights."

"Well, there's one bright side to this," Hamilton said, optimistic.

"What's that, mate?" Wiley asked.

"Guess who's buying drinks tonight?!"

All the men started cheering and celebrating.

As they were setting up for a game of Egyptian ratscrew, the door to the barracks opened. Hogan and Rick stepped inside, closed the door behind them, and observed what their men were doing. Hogan smiled, crossed his arms, and cocked his head a bit to the side. Rick smirked and shook his head.

Sensing someone new came in, Wiley turned his head and saw his commanding officer. His eyes nearly fell out of his head and felt a sudden chill of fear run up and down his spine.

"Boss!" He cried, shooting up to his feet.

McAvoy yanked the man back down, a bit irritated with his friend's whole 'paranoia' on the one spot left on the plane they were cleaning earlier.

"Is he still freaking out over that tiny spec you two left on that Douglas A-20?" Ellis snorted.

"Boss said he wanted that thing spotless!" Wiley remarked, defensive.

"Hey, Colonel! Let us plan a wedding for yah. We already got a housewife for you right here!" Brooks teased.

All the men besides Wiley started laughing like morons.

Hogan could not help himself. He started chuckling and shook his head.

"I'm glad you guys are having some fun, but I'm gonna have to be the bad guy and put a stop to this little party, tonight," the colonel said softly.

A round of groans and sighs went between the eight men. Brooks started collecting dice, cards, and chips, while the rest turned to their commanding officer and his second in command.

"What's the deal here, sir?" Ellis asked, curious.

"Did we do something wrong?" McAvoy questioned, a bit anxious.

"No, no one's in trouble. We've got a new assignment from General Berkman," Hogan said, his face changing to one of authority.

"Oooo! What is it?!" Gibson cried.

"Do we get to slaughter someone?!" Wiley asked, energized.

Brooks flicked out his pocket knife and rested his arms on the shoulders of Anderson and Ellis.

"We'll get 'em, sir. We can make Gestapo Shepherds pie!" Brooks cackled.

That got all eight of them laughing again, until they saw Hogan's facial expression. The colonel let out a heavy breath, his eyes flashing with anger, and looked like a bull ready to charge.

Brooks cleared his throat and put his knife away.

"Sorry, Colonel," he said softly.

"We're just trying to lighten the mood, sir." Ellis added.

"Well, there's nothing light about what I have to tell you. The Krauts had another air raid on Paris last night. 174 people were killed and about another 102 are still missing," Hogan said, firm.

"You're kidding!" McAvoy gasped.

"We didn't hear about this," Ellis said.

"I just heard the news myself. General Berkman says there's a new ball bearing plant being built near the city of Hammelburg. He wants us to bomb it and put the Krauts' war efforts on setback." Hogan continued.

"When do we do it, Boss?" Wiley asked.

"Tomorrow night at 1900 hours. Wiley, you and McAvoy are in charge of supervising in back. Ellis and Anderson are in charge of getting the bombs set and ready, and the remaining of you will assist in dropping the bombs when I order to do so." The colonel ordered.

"Yes, sir," all men said.

"And if something happens to me, all eight of you are to follow Major Schuerman's orders and head straight back here to London, understood?"

"Yah mean leave yah?!" Wiley exclaimed.

"We can't forget about you, Colonel! You're the head of this whole team!" Brooks cried.

"We're nothing without you, sir!" McAvoy added.

"I appreciate the thought, guys, but I won't risk any of your lives to save mine," Hogan said.

"But, Colonel," Ellis was cut off.

"I'm not asking. I'm telling, understand?" The colonel responded softly. His eyes read the decision was final.

Ellis fell silent briefly and looked at his commanding officer with sad eyes. He knew once Hogan had made a decision, he never changed it.

"Yes, Colonel."

Hogan nodded.

"Good," he said softly.

There was a brief moment of silence between all the men, when he let out a sigh and spoke again.

"You boys better get headed for bed. We've got a busy day tomorrow."

"Yes, sir," All eight men answered.

Hogan gave a friendly smile and started making his way to the door with Rick following from behind him.

"See you guys in the morning," was Hogan's answer.

"Good night, Colonel," all of his men said.

Once Rick and Hogan had made their way out, all eight men remaining turned to face one another.

"Leave Colonel Hogan behind?!" Brooks cried softly.

"No way. I'm not doing it," Ellis said, his decision made.

"He wouldn't leave one of us behind. How could we do that to him?!" Anderson exclaimed.

"You'd have to kill me before I leave Colonel behind with those Kraut bastards!" McAvoy hissed.

"Boss said 'no', guys. You know how much hot water we'd be in if we ever disobeyed one of his orders?" Wiley remarked.

"You'd rather have him die at the hands of the Gestapo?" Brooks asked, fierce.

"The Gestapo!" The other seven cried.

"You think the Gestapo would get a hold of Colonel Hogan?!" Pearce cried.

"I know they would try to get a hold of him. Colonel's one of the United States' most highly regarded military officers. He's a living threat to the Krauts as long as he's out of captivity," Brooks said. "Getting a hold of him and keeping him as prisoner would be a goldmine for them."

"We can't let 'em!" Wiley cried, shooting to his feet.

"We won't let 'em. We're not going anywhere without Colonel Hogan with us," Anderson said, taking the lead for the eight of them. He was the highest rank out of all them and had longer service than Pearce did.

"What if Boss finds out, though?" Wiley asked.

"If Colonel finds out about this, he's gonna flip his lid." Pearce added.

"He'll do worse than that. He'll have a frickin' cow! And a sheep, and a pig, and a duck, and the whole barn house!" Brooks retorted.

"Colonel Hogan can't have a cow. It wouldn't fit inside him, how's he gonna have a cow?" Gibson asked, lost.

McAvoy rolled his eyes. Gibson took the longest out of all of them to catch onto things.

"It's a figure of speech, Gibs," he said.

"It means Colonel's gonna lick us...hard." Ellis replied.

"Oh!" The private cried, finally catching on. "I get it now."

The rest of the men paid their attentions back on Anderson.

"So it's final; we don't leave Colonel Hogan behind under any circumstances. And no one is to speak of this to anyone else, especially Major Schuerman. He'll tell Colonel, and then we're screwed from the bottom up. Got it?"

"Yes, Sanders," all of them said, in unison.

"Good."

Ellis yawned and looked down at his watch.

"Well, it's getting late. We should probably turn in." The RAF soldier spoke.

"Probably right." Hamilton answered.

And so with that, the eight of Hogan's men got into their pajamas and made themselves comfortable in their bunks. Soon enough, they heard nothing and drifted off to sleep.