"Sir, we've got another poem," Kinch said, as all five men were gathered around the tunnels.
"It's about time," Newkirk replied. "Is it from the same author again?"
Kinch handed the poem, written on his customary sheet of blue paper, to Hogan. "No, this time it's from another author- Crystal Rose of Pollux," the commanding officer said. "Apparently, Marie is opening this to all authors who wish to contribute a poem about us."
"All authors?" Newkirk asked, his eyes glancing around the room. "Blimey, I just 'ope they don't write anything bad or incriminating about us!"
Kinch, getting up from the radio, could only place a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I wouldn't be worried about that, Peter. I think the authors know better than that, especially since they know what could happen if they did."
"Oui, but I for one am not looking forward to going back to FanFic Court," LeBeau replied.
The rest of the men could only nod their heads in agreement.
"Well, what does it say?" Carter inquired. He looked over at his friends, who he could tell were equally curious about the contents of the poem.
Upon hearing his sergeant's question, Hogan read out loud:
Luft Stalag Thirteen—
Houses its secrets like the
Pearl in an oyster
Upon reading it, all of the men couldn't help but smile. It was a secretive smile, one that few people would understand: a smile that said they couldn't agree more.
"It's a beautiful poem," LeBeau said, breaking out into another smile. "But who is going to keep this one?"
"I think I'll hang onto it," Hogan replied.
He then turned to his second-in-command. "Kinch, radio London again. Make sure they get the word out that, apparently, we are holding a poetry contest."
With that, Kinch got to work, while the rest of the men could only wonder who would contribute a poem next.