"Is this the way this show's supposed to be?" Josh asked as we watched the guys, with Klink's blessing, convert Stalag 13's entrance grounds into a stadium, complete with stands and podium.

"No. This is, well," I paused. "I don't know what the hell this is, actually."

"It's stupid," Josh muttered.

I almost told him to give it a chance, but Iwas just as skeptical as he was. I just want to go home and watch a TV that doesn't talk back to me.

"Excuse me, Colonel," I said when Hogan came on screen leaving Barrack 2. "Are you ready to get this show on the road?"

He nodded. "Almost. Carter's practicing how he's going to light the cauldron, Newkirk's working on his magic act and Kinch and LeBeau are working on the athlete's pledge. I'm going to say a few words too."

I covered my ears against the crash of hammers on metal. "What the hell was that?"

Hogan glanced over his shoulder. "They're making the cauldron out of Klink's wood stove. Baker tells me it'll look great when they're done reshaping it."

I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache coming. "How did you get Klink to approve all this?"

He stared at me like I was a moron. "It was easy. I told him the truth."

I frowned. "Really?"

He shrugged. "Well, I stroked his ego, made him think it was his idea and let nature take its course. Plus I promised him front row seats, a commemorative program, autographs from all the competitors…."

I waved my hands. "Okay, okay, I get it. I just have a hard time believing that would've been enough."

Hogan winced. "I told him he could be a judge too."

My eyebrows rose. "Kommandant Dead Fish? What does he know about love?"

"Nothing. It's just he practically begged me for something else to do. He's been going crazy over the plumbing in his quarters since his bathroom taps exploded."

I snorted. "Oh? You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you Colonel?"

He gave me an indignant look. "Certainly not. Now, Newkirk might be able to tell you on the other hand. He may have borrowed a cherry bomb Carter had hanging around to keep things interesting."

"Have you sent anyone over to fix it?"

He shook his head. "Some plumbers from town are working on it now. In the meantime, Klink has to have the water turned off. He hasn't showered for two days."

I chuckled. "You guys. One of these days you're going to get into trouble you can't get out of."

Hogan smirked. "If that happened, there'd hardly be any Hogan's Heroes, would there?" He raised a finger to his lips. "Speaking of Klink, he's coming this way. Keep your big mouth shut until I get rid of him."

The scene cut to Klink dancing down the steps to his office. "Colonel Hogan! Isn't this a wonderful day?"

Hogan hooked his thumbs in his jacket pockets. "You couldn't have picked a better one for the competition, Kommandant." He raised his eyebrows as Klink blew on his hands. "Are you cold, sir?"

He nodded. "My office is chilly for some reason. I'll have to check my stove later." He watched the men constructing the grand stand. "Colonel, if I may ask, what possessed your men to want a Love Olympics?"

The American grinned. "Well, sir, boys will be boys. They're always bragging about who's the best in the romance department, so we decided to settle it once and for all."

Klink rubbed his hands together. "Well, I'm honoured your men asked me to judge the events." He lowered his voice, as if he planned to overthrow Hitler. "You know, Colonel, I may run the toughest POW camp in all of Germany, but I'm really a romantic at heart."

Maybe this won't be so bad after all, I thought.

"You know, the last time I was on leave, I met a wonderful Fraulein who loved poetry. I spent the night reciting every love poem I knew."

Hogan's smile grew wider. "How did she like it?"

The Kommandant's expression turned into one reminiscent of a cat about to be fixed. "She slapped me before spending the rest of the evening with some lousy General."

Nope. Spoke too soon.

Hogan stifled a laugh. "Well, maybe you should stick with knocking the ladies dead with your impressive no escape record."

Klink started to reply when a short guard marched up to him. "Herr Kommandant, I beg to report."

The officer rolled his eyes as he returned the enlisted man's salute. "What is it? You're supposed to be supervising the plumbers."

"Yes," the guard stammered. "But there's been a little accident. There's water's everywhere."

Klink's face fell. "Oh no. Not again."

Hogan's face fell. "Aw, shucks, Kommandant. I guess you can't be our master of ceremonies now."

Klink puffed up his chest. "Of course I can. Gather your men and march them in. I'll only be a minute."

Kinch tapped Hogan's shoulder once the Iron Eagle flapped off. "We're all set Colonel."

"Good." The American turned and spotted Newkirk waving a handkerchief by the water tower. "You ready?"

The handkerchief disappeared. "Whenever you are Colonel!"

Hogan looked around. "Where's Carter?"

Kinch frowned. "Funny, he was here a minute ago."

"Carter!" Hogan called.

The sergeant poked his head around the barrack corner. "Yeah, Colonel?"

"Are you ready?"

"Not quite yet, sir."

Hogan groaned, checking his watch. "We haven't got all day, you know."

Carter's expression became pained. "Well, gee, you can't expect a guy to be ready for something as special as Olympic opening ceremonies at the drop of a hat. It takes time to prepare."

His superior furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm sure whatever you've got planned will be fine. Now, will you join the rest of us? We're about to start the parade of nations."

Josh groaned, worrying a hole in his pajama pants. "This is boring, Blue. Turn it off."

I pinched him. "Cut it out. You sound like your sister."

"Hey!" Teegan squeaked. "I think it's romantic. You're really going to write a dream girl for the winner?"

I nodded. "A deal's a deal."

"Pardon me, folks," Hogan grumbled. "We'd like to get started if you don't mind."

I motioned for them to go. "Please do. The kids have to be in bed by nine or my aunt'll freak."

Hogan clapped his hands. "You heard him, men. Fall in!" The men organized themselves into a line as he looked on. "Attention! Forward march!"

With that, the competitors marched to the stadium. For as motley a crew as they seemed, they had a commanding presence.

"They look like soldiers," Josh breathed in my ear.

"That's because they are, sort of," I whispered back. "They're in their country's air forces though, so I'm not sure if they're technically soldiers. Although, the army ran the air force during the war…."

"Halt!" Hogan shouted as the men reached the stadium. "Right face!"

The men made a crisp turn and faced the podium and stands as Klink raced over, his coat dripping with water. "Those dummkof plumbers don't know a wrench from a screwdriver," He huffed as he took his place on the dais. "At ease," he wheezed. "Gentlemen, please forgive my tardiness, but I had a little water matter to attend to." Newkirk winked to us as Klink forced a smile. "It's my great pleasure to welcome you to the first-ever Stalag 13 Love Olympics." The prisoners clapped politely. "Representing England- a mortal enemy of the Third Reich, which is home to famous writers of drivel such as Shakespeare and Robert Browning- Corporal Newkirk!"

Newkirk bristled, but waved as the RAF flyers whistled and stomped their feet. "I'll do you proud, chaps. There isn't a bird in the Empire I haven't won."

Klink flicked the riding crop under his arm. "Yes, yes, thank you Corporal. Now, representing France-a nation known for the art of love, which our leaders are currently civilizing- Corporal LeBeau."

LeBeau gave a small bow. "Perhaps we can teach you a thing or two Kommandant. I hear French women aren't very fond of German men's wooing. They prefer a little wine and soft music to being clubbed over the head and dragged off to a cave."

Klink's eyes widened with anger as the prisoners cheered. "That's enough! The next man who makes a sound will get 30 days in the cooler." The crowd quieted. "And now, representing the United States, a nation responsible for the St. Valentine's Day Massacre, Colonel Hogan, Sergeant Carter and Sergeant Kinchloe."

"That's not fair!" Carter yelled. "Just because a bunch of guys in Chicago decided to get a little trigger happy on Valentine's Day doesn't mean the rest of us are jerks! After all, we have Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, Clark Kent and Lois Lane, Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland…."

"Bonnie and Clyde!" Newkirk interjected.

Carter folded his arms. "Ha, ha, very funny!"

Klink cleared his throat. "I have a few words I'd like to say before we get started. I'm proud to say Germany has a fine athletic tradition and has proven to be a world class host for events such as the 1936 Summer Olympics."

Kinch grinned at LeBeau. "Yeah, and guys like Jesse Owens cleaned their clock."

I stifled a snicker and tried to pay attention to what Klink was saying. Something about good sportsmanship and making him proud.

Klink raised his hands. "And remember, all's fair in love and war."

Hogan led a round of polite applause as he walked on stage and elbowed old Blood and Guts out of his way. Klink, to his credit, stood aside, though you could see him resisting the temptation to strangle the other man.

The prisoners quieted down as Hogan raised his hands. "Men, I'll keep it short and sweet. I'm honored, as all the competitors are, to be participating in such a fine event and we plan to show the Germans what love is all about." He motioned to Kinch and LeBeau. "Gentlemen, if you'll come up here and lead us in our pledge."

LeBeau cleared his throat as he took the stage and raised his right hand. "In the name of all competitors, we promise we shall take part in these Love Olympic Games."

Kinch glanced at a note card and took up the next line. "To keep it clean and be the best romantics we can be.

"In the true spirit of chivalry, for the glory of love and the honour of womankind," they finished.

Hogan stepped forward as the men retreated. "Alright, it's time for some entertainment by Corporal Newkirk before we light the cauldron."

Newkirk bowed as he took his place on stage. "Ta for the hearty applause, mates. How are you enjoying this brass monkey weather?"

"It's terrible," Schultz moaned, pausing his patrol along the fence. "I feel like a penguin caught in a blizzard."

The crowd glared at him. "Nobody asked you!" one of the bit players hissed.

Josh leaned forward as the Englishman produced a deck of cards. He wailed when the scene cut to a staff car entering the compound so fast it almost hit the Olympic cauldron. "Awh! I wanna see the magic tricks!"

"Boy are you stupid," Teegan said in a snotty voice. "Everyone knows there's no such thing as magic."

Josh covered his ears and screamed. "No, no, no! There is! There is!"

Teegan argued with him for a minute, then threw a remote at his head.

"Cut it out, guys!" I shouted over the ruckus. "Obviously they're not showing us the magic show because whomever's in the car is more important. Besides, Teegan, who says there's no such thing as magic?"

She turned up her chin. "Mommy does."

"Figures. Mommy doesn't believe in the tooth fairy, Easter bunny or John Tesh either. Mommy is what I like to call no fun."

"Will you clam up?" Hogan said through his teeth, approaching the officer who exited the car. I almost jumped when the guy straightening his back. He was the size of a Yeti and looked almost as hairy.

"Kommandant Klink!" he growled.

Like Pavlov's proverbial mutt, Klink bounded over. The only things missing were a wagging tail and tongue. "I'm Kommandant Klink."

"I'm Captain Jahrsdorfer, Major Hochstetter' new assistant. He sent me here to pre-inspect Stalag 13 for him as a training exercise."

"A pre-inspection?" Klink and Hogan replied, almost in the same tone. Freaky, I thought.

Jahrsdorfer must have thought so too, for he hesitated for a moment. "What are you, parrots? You heard me!" He whipped out a notebook. "So this is the infamous Stalag 13?"

Klink smiled. "It certainly is. Just as I'm its tough but fair Kommandant."

Jahrsdorfer snorted. "Yes, Major Hochstetter told me all about your perfect record and the hanky panky that's happened in and around this camp. Although." He squinted malevolently toward the stage. "He never mentioned anything like this."

The Bald Eagle launched into his usual groveling routine. "Captain Jahrsdorfer, I can explain everything."

"It's the Love Olympics, Captain," Hogan interjected.

Jahrsdorfer scowled at him. "Who are you?"

"Colonel Hogan, senior POW in camp."

He motioned to the stands. "And what did you say this was?"

Hogan didn't bat an eyelash, even though the German looked like he wanted him for a mid-morning snack. "The Love Olympics." He pointed to the crowd. "Take a good look at these men and tell me what they have in common."

The Captain shrugged. "They're shabby examples of the Third Reich's enemies?"

"Try looking beyond that."

He scratched his blond beard. "They like magic tricks?"

Our hero shook his head. "These men are in the prime of their lives, and they've been away from women so long, they're not sure they know what to do if they see one again. So, we decided to hold some events to decide who deserves the title of Stalag 13 Casanova."

Jahrsdorfer turned to Klink, who still wore an idiotic grin. "And you approved this?"

The other German gave a 'what can you do?' gesture. "They even asked me to judge."

Jahrsdorfer raised his gaze skyward. "Unbelievable. Major Hochstetter warned me this place was a zoo. He should've said it was an asylum." He turned on his heels. "I've seen enough. I'll be off to make my report."

Hogan blocked his way back to the car. He looked like a pork chop trying to hold off a pack of wolves. "Why don't you join us and see what the games are all about?"

"Are you crazy?" the German protested. "I have more important things to do."

"Come, come," Klink clucked. "Let's see if we can't change your opinion of us."

Jahrsdorfer didn't have a chance. The two Colonels grabbed him and plopped him down on a seat close to centre stage before he could say 'Heil Hitler.'

Newkirk looked at his commander, then at Jahrsdorfer, a devilish glint in his eyes. "Well, well, well. It looks like we have his Lordship here. Pardon me, sir, but would you help me demonstrate me last trick?"

The German turned scarlet as the crowd stomped and whistled encouragement. "C'mon!" Hogan yelled in his ear. "Give it a try!"

Seeing no other escape, Jahrsdorfer rose and joined Newkirk. Or, more accurately, Hogan pushed Hochstetter's aide on stage. Newkirk flinched when he realized he was dealing with the not-so-friendly giant, but, ever the showman, he didn't let on for more than a second. "Ta, sir. My, you've been eating all your vegetables haven't you? You're as big as the Tower of London."

He clenched his jaw. "Get on with it."

"Might I have your pocket watch, sir?" Newkirk whistled as Jahrsdorfer reluctantly reached into his coat and handed over a gold piece. "Marvelous bauble this is. Must've cost you a pretty mark." He turned to a side table. "Now, I take the watch and wrap it in the Kommandant's handkerchief."

Klink frowned, feeling up his jacket. "That dirty Englishman! How did he get it? I could've sworn I still had it on me."

The handkerchief disappeared from Newkirk's palm. "Voilà, the watch is no more."

Jahrsdorfer clapped politely with everyone, then stuck out his hand. "Very clever. Now hand it over."

Newkirk reached into his pocket, his face falling. "Uh oh."

The German giant glowered. "What do you mean, uh oh?"

The Corporal checked his pockets. "I can't find it."

Jahrsdorfer grabbed Newkirk by the lapels. "That was a present my wife gave me for our first anniversary!" he shrieked. "Hand it over now, or I'll make you wish you'd died when we shot you down!"

Newkirk let off a nervous giggle, his hands working overtime. "Check your right pocket, sir."

Jahrsdorfer reached in and sighed in relief as his fingers wrapped around the piece. "You're a very lucky man."

Newkirk brushed himself off. "Luck has nothing to do with it. I'm gifted." He turned to the audience. "Ta. You've been wonderful. Hope you'll come see me when I play the Palladium."

Hogan escorted Jahrsdorfer back to his seat and scanned the crowd. "Carter, you're up."

The Sergeant turned to the man behind him. "Olsen, you know that stuff I asked you to hold onto? I need it now." He hoisted a bow and arrow over his head and nudged his way through the crowd. "Excuse me. Sorry. Watch it. I don't want to poke you with this."

Jahrsdorfer bolted up in alarm. "Your prisoners are armed, Klink? What have you got between your ears, a dish rag?"

Hogan patted the man's shoulder. "Relax Captain. He won't attack anyone."

Jahrsdorfer flung the Colonel's hand away. "Get away from me!" He shook his finger at Klink. "I'll make my report to Major Hochstetter now. In person."

"Captain Jahrsdorfer, wait!" Klink called, playing puppy again as he followed on the aide's heels.

Carter looked at Hogan. "What should I do?"

His commander shrugged. "Light the cauldron anyway."

"Yes sir." Carter closed one eye as Olsen soaked a rag with a canteen and wrapped it around the arrow's tip. He flicked a cigarette lighter on and held it to the rag, backing up when it caught.

"Wait!" Klink whined, almost stamping his feet as the staff car drove off.

Carter pulled the string back, paused, then released the arrow. It was a shot worthy of William Tell. It might've made the cauldron is the wind hadn't shifted. It might not have been a disaster if the Captain's car hadn't been leaking fuel where the arrow landed.

"Oops," Little Deer muttered, blushing as the arrow set a fiery trail toward the car's undercarriage. The driver must have seen the flames, as he and Jahrsdorfer, jumped out and bolted before the car exploded. The looks on their faces, distorted in the inferno, were priceless.

Hogan patted Carter's back. "Great shooting, as always, Geronimo."