For the Love of Hogan & Penicillin

by Missy the Least

Hogan & his men have taken over the camp and the Germans are now the prisoners' prisoners (at least, those who have not defected to the Allied cause). While everyone is adjusting to Hogan openly running things with Klink as his Co-Kommandant, sickness has arrived, and there are few supplies. Part of the 'Dear Rob' 'Verse, implied relationship.

2. Chapter 2 - London? We have a Problem

For the Love of Hogan & Penicillin

A/N: Please be warned that this Chapter features an off-color, but historically accurate remark; please see the note at the end for the explanation.

Chapter 2 – London? We have a problem.

January 11, 1945
Stalag 13
Near Hammelberg, Germany
Morning Assembly

"Gentlemen, I think by now, we all know that this is NOT going away, and it will get worse before it gets better. Now we have nearly 1200 men in this camp, and I want that same number to be present and accounted for this time next month. We are not going to lose ANYONE, Allied, Resistance or Neutral, not if a little planning and cooperation,"

"And Faith, Colonel, don't forget Faith!" yelled out the normally reserved Father Mulcahey, breaking the tension and eliciting chuckles from the flock.

"And Faith," the Colonel smiled, "can make the difference. For right now, I want to speak with our Neutrals and our Resistance tower guards, so fellas, stick around. I want all Allied personnel inside now, and I'll go over the plan with all barracks leaders out here in an hour. Schultz?"

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant Hogan."

"Schultzie, I need you and anyone of the Resistance who aren't sick yet in Guard Barrack B. Ziggy Heinz and Weber are already on the mend, and Jurgen and Kohl have volunteered to stay with the sick group, so that should be enough people to care for them. The heavy duty cases like Otto are already quarantined in the Rec Hall, and with any luck, we moved fast enough to prevent the further spread. Oh, and tell everybody to stay out of the tunnels, Baker and the crew down there should be safe enough, but I'll need to find them some place warmer at night..."

"Perhaps, they can stay in B with us? The new tunnel is holding per-fect-ly and it is better than all that damp below."

"Great idea, Schultz, see to it."

As Schultz waddled off, Hogan, flanked by his German adjunct and POW liaison, Captain Matthias Dingle, turned to address the Neutrals (who were already displeased and restless) as one shouted in German, "But where are we to go? We were assured that we would be properly treated if we caused no trouble!"

"Mueller!" Dingle ordered back in the same language, "Give the Kommandant a chance to speak, before you judge."

Knowing it would take the wind out of Mueller's sails, Hogan continued in German:

"Gentlemen, I assure you and give you my word; we are doing everything we possibly can to get this epidemic under control, and we are doing our utmost to keep the healthy, healthy. That's why we need to shuffle people around." Taking a sharper, more commanding tone, Hogan went on: "This is inconvenient for everyone, and no one group is being singled out, or spared for that matter. So I expect your full and complete co-operation as we relocate you to Barracks 4."

"Barracks 4? All of us? Do I resemble Ashenputtel, to sleep in a garret on the hearth?" sneered Mueller.

"You will speak to Kommandant Hogan with respect or you will never speak again!" Dingle had drawn himself up, ready to frog-march the heckler straight to the cooler, when a hoarse voice stopped him:

"Thirty days in the cooler for insubordination; however, punishment to be postponed until the current crisis is over. I am warning you, Lieutenant, I did not allow you to speak disrespectfully to Colonel Hogan when he was our prisoner, and I will not tolerate it now that we are his."

All eyes turned to the Prussian officer on the front porch of the Kommandantur.

Co-Kommandant Wilhelm Klink, was, by all accounts, a changed man.

Changed for the better.

The changes were pronounced in some ways, subtle in others.

The subtle ones had to do with nerves, or the lack of them. That strange little pitched quaver in his voice? Gone. The funny little strut that made him look fussy and foolish? Also gone. How about the way he would hunch over so that his head and neck would sink into his shoulders, always shrinking into himself (which usually meant that 'molting vulture' was the odds on favorite description)? Gone, gone, gone.

What was pronounced? Everything else. Still slightly pompous, still more likely to guess wrong than right, Wilhelm Klink's mask of foolish, mindless sycophancy was torn off, trampled under a growing self-confidence and a willingness to learn from others, regardless of rank.

More and more, Klink was reaping respect from the fairness he was showing; "F.I.N.K." was becoming a term of affection and not hidden ridicule.

So now, seeing the steel in Klink's eyes, Mueller deflated, and Gruber quickly spoke up: "Danke, Herr Kommandant, we will move, and there will be no trouble." Turning to the others, Gruber snarled at the rest, "Right boys?" The remaining soldiers, a bit surprised at Gruber's attitude, grumbled but agreed.

"Great! Thanks for the cooperation gentlemen! Dingle, let me know if your bunch needs anything. The new attic is solid and the thatching hasn't leaked at all. The new venting system works like a charm, so the men and yourself should be warm and dry. And nobody has to double bunk, like the rest of us."

That caused more than a few to snicker quietly, but before the grins and sneers could turn into open mockery, Hogan and Klink barked: "DISMISSED!"

Hogan glanced at Klink, and the two locked eyes for a few seconds longer, (just long enough to have a quick conversation, Dingle thought) and Klink nodded, retreating back into the warmth of the Kommandantur.

But before Dingle could excuse himself to follow the Neutrals, Langenscheidt approached and saluted: "Kommandant Hogan, if I may have your permission to suggest?"

"Sure go ahead."

"I already know the plan for the Night Watch; Captain Dingle does not. Allow me to supervise the move. I am still friendly with most of the men, and if they can gripe a bit now, I can stop the rumors and show them the truth. I helped to rebuild that barracks, I know what they fear and can show them it is a better building than any except for the Kommandantur. In front of the Captain, they will not speak, and"

"Better to let 'em grouse and get it out into the open now, than let it fester and come out when Gruber and Mueller can use the resentment to stir up trouble, right?"

"Exactly, Herr Kommandant!"

"Well, Dingle, what do you think?"

"I think it a splendid idea. And it will foster trust; they will see that we mean what we say, that if they cause no trouble, they will be as free as possible under the circumstances."

"Good. Go ahead, Dingle will relieve you at supper."

As Langenscheidt left, Hogan turned to the remaining guards: "Gentlemen, I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that we still need to maintain our cover; the outside world needs to believe that this is still an ordinary prisoner of war camp. And we still need to have as much warning as possible of the Third Reich's movements. Which means we still need to man the lookout towers and have at least one outside night sweep every so often."

"Herr Colonel, if that is the bad news, what is the good news?" asked Heinrich Heinz, the oldest of the teenaged guards. Befriended and protected first by Hogan and Barracks Two, then assigned as the guard/mascot of Barracks 12, he had become 'Richie' to the camp and was a general favorite, so he was never afraid to respectfully interrupt Hogan, knowing that his idol would always answer.

"The good news is you'll be trading shifts back and forth with the forest lodge lookout guys, and you'll take your meals with them and sleep there until the flu has passed. Also, we can't allow braziers up in the towers, but the guys in the metal shop have reinvented Victorian hand-warmers," (and the Colonel suited word to deed and tossed an egg-shaped metal sphere at Richie, which the teen deftly caught). "Make sure you're wearing gloves when you use 'em, because they get hot. It won't help anything if you have frostbite AND third-degree burns."

Hogan smiled at his Night Watch and added: "Now head over to Barracks 9 but don't go in! Sergeant Fassbender will have a bucket of these things ready and waiting outside. Sam, Kaminsky and the rest of the lookouts will be coming to relieve you in a few minutes. Dingle, you and Sam set up schedules; nobody over-does it, and no double shifts. We've got plenty of people to take on nights and everybody gets a turn. I mean it when I said we need to keep the healthy, healthy. So those coming off shift will report directly to Captain Dingle and to Sergeant Minsk. They'll report to me. All clear?"

A chorus of affirmatives, and Hogan then dismissed the lot.

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Corporal Melvin J. Kaminsky was doing something verboten; he was chattering away with his friend Sergeant Vladimir 'Sam' Minsk in Yiddish, as they walked down the road on the way back to Stalag 13, at the head of a column of 'guards':

"Sam, you in the pool yet? What date you got?"

"Which pool? If you are speaking of the Liberation, I have March 28. You?"

"I'm a comedian, so April Fool's Day, what else!" Looking around and lowering his voice (even though he was certain no one in earshot could understand him), he added: "And for the other?"

Sam bristled and hissed even lower: "What do you mean, 'and the other'? There IS no other! I warn you, friend, Robert Hogan is as a son to me, and I will not see him mocked."

"Oi! Do I look like I'm mocking? Sure, I may laugh, but it's all right. He's all right, and they're all right in my book. Face it, without Jews, fags or gypsies, there is no theater."

Sam stared at the man, mouth open: "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, Sam, I am. For once. And some of us, their friends, are talking about getting a camp wide meeting together, to, you know, clear the air. At this point, every one knows, even if they don't, and"

"And the best to do is let sleeping dogs lie."

"NO! Can't you see? The Colonel won't slip up; he's too slick. But the Kommandant? That's what the pool is! When he's gonna let that crush show too much! The other other pool was already won by Shurtlieff – leave it to a woman to figure midnight Christmas, I was sure they wouldn't make it past the last day of Hanukkah, the 18th, I mean they're guys! Klink hasn't had a date go well in thirty years, but nooo, figures they're both romantics."

"Our little Robin was part of such a thing? I don't believe it!"

"She was, and damned proud of the win. And some of the people you'd least expect were in on it too; in on it and happy for 'em. It won't be a lynch mob, Sam. I swear. But we need a plan. They're safe here. Crazy ain't it? But true. Them, Hill, Fassy and Mac, Gunny and O'Neill...not to mention the rest of us, the outcasts and outsiders, the Negroes and we Jews, Danny Chin and his Chinatown crew, Gunga Din, the braves, all of us, here, somehow we're safe. All because of Hogan. But outside? He can't change the world all by himself. He needs us behind him, watching his back. So, we do for him what he does for us, we plan."

"Plan? Plan for what?"

"The future, Sam. We make the outside world act more like in here. Here, where Kinch is as much of a man as Olsen, where Hill can walk around and not get beaten up, where Carter can show the world what a fool Hitler really is – fact is, I'm making that my life; making Hitler and the Nazis so ridiculous, that no one sane will ever believe in their ideas ever again."

Before Sam could reply, they found themselves within sight of the Stalag's fence. "Don't you worry, Sam," muttered the young Brooklynite, "even if it takes all the rest of our lives, Hogan and Klink will be safe."

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Hogan's meeting with the barrack leaders went smoothly; no one had any objections to the new duty rosters or to the additional precautions in place to prevent a wider outbreak of sickness.

MacAvoy spoke for the group: "No worries here, Sir. Nobody else sick since Martin and Higgs went down, and just them out of forty leads isn't bad. And of the rest, it's been two days since Cassidy went to the Rec Hall, without his voice all saints be praised!" Universal laughter rang out at the thought of the camp kvetch without his whining as Mac continued, "and seems to be the last of 'em, right enough."

"Still, I need everybody to keep sharp about this. Wilson says that this strain of 'flu has a short incubation period, but that still means we have another 3 days of no new cases to be sure that the epidemic is over. So we keep up with all the precautions; rubbing alcohol by all the doors and daily wash down of the handles and faucets, and at the first sign of sickness?"

"Straight to the Infirmary!" chimed the group.

"Terrific! Keep up the good work fellas, and I'll see you all at evening roll call. MacAvoy, it's 9's turn to help LeBeau keep the Stone Soup pot going. Dismissed!"

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As he watched the men disperse to their tasks, Hogan couldn't help a soft smile of pride; everyone had come together in light of the crisis, the new guys from Stalag 7 blending in with the 'old-timers', determined to share the burden of running the finest Underground Rescue & Sabotage unit in Europe, doubling as the 'toughest POW Camp in all of Germany'.

The American Colonel realized that he was alone and relaxed: things would work out; they would all get home safe. The worst was over and everyone was on the mend. Good thing, too. They had used the last of the penicillin on Kinch; the last of the sulfa on Cassidy.

Yeah, good thing the worst was over.

So Hogan thought as he pivoted an about-face...and collapsed.

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A/N: As promised: "[W]ithout Jews, fags or gypsies, there is no theater." For those who don't know, this is a direct quote from Mel Brook's remake of the Jack Benny hit movie: "To Be Or Not To Be". The story of a 'world famous in Poland' acting troupe, who find themselves needing to escape Warsaw after the Nazis' invade. The thing that knocks me for a loop is that the original came out in 1942, when the Nazis were winning the war. It takes guts to make fun of your adversary when he's kicking your butt.

Then there's this: "I'm making that my life; making Hitler and the Nazis so ridiculous, that no one sane will ever believe in their ideas ever again." That is the paraphrase of Mel Brooks' stated philosophy – which is why he is constantly making fun of them.

And by the way, Mel Brooks' real name is Melvin J. Kaminsky, he's from Brooklyn, New York, and he is a World War II veteran, who, during the Battle of the Bulge, got tired of the Nazis broadcasting propaganda over loudspeakers towards the American lines. So he rigged up a sound system of his own and played Al Jolson's music right back. Which was gutsy enough, except that the real joke was that Jolson was Jewish and he sang jazz (two things that the Nazis hated). Mel Brooks does not only make fun of the Nazis from a safe distance; he has been mocking them up close and personal, while they were actively trying to kill him, since 1944.

I figured he would fit right in with Colonel Hogan and the Unsung Heroes.

Finally, I almost forgot - endless thanks to my betas - Snooky, 80sarcade, Kat and Wolfie, and extra hugs to Snooky for allowing me to use her OC, Jason Cassidy, from her story, "With a Song in My Heart".