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Just over four hours later, the alarm clock beside her bed went off with an ear-shattering ring. Grogginess slammed her like a truck as she pushed herself awake, lifting herself through a superhuman effort into a seated position at the side of her bed. 4:30 AM. She had to get ready for work. A piece of her own hair was caught in her mouth.
Brushing the invading lock behind her ear, Roberta hauled herself off the bed and made her way to her little ensuite bathroom. The old mirror over the sink was clean but flecked with black, and her own face staring back at her looked worn and tired. She hadn't even put on her handkerchief in the night before.
The tap spat before it ran with cool water, which felt refreshing on her as she splashed it on her still sleeping face. She patted dry with a threadbare face towel, and twisted her dark brown locks into a sleek roll at the base of her skull. She liked her hair out of her face anyway. Once her hair was done and her face was clean, she began to feel a little more alive.
Her clothes were the same as they always were for work - a skirt suit in a neutral colour, a simple blouse, and her brown oxford shoes. Satisfied she looked human enough to show her face to the public, she headed to the kitchen to make a coffee. It was a rare day that even the girls she shared a house with saw her before she had completed her simple morning ritual.
From the silence coming from upstairs, neither Newkirk nor LeBeau had woken yet. They were probably exhausted from last night. That was too bad, however - Andrea needed a rest and one of the other two would have to watch the radio while Roberta was at work. She made her way up the stairs to the room the three other women shared.
The room contained a single wardrobe and three small beds. The one closest to the door was empty - that was Carter's, and she would be disrupting its well-made blankets soon enough. On the adjacent wall, Louise was curled up clutching her blanket, face half buried in the pillow and a thick braid of black hair laying across her neck. Petra had the bed by the window, where she was sprawled with the covers half-off, handkerchief coming off her head and exposing her light brown curls. Roberta made an executive decision, and walked over to where the English girl was sleeping.
"Newkirk. Newkirk." She shook the young woman gently on the shoulder. Roberta knew from experience it did not good to try and rouse Petra in a hurry. The result could be violent. But right now, Newkirk wasn't stirring, so the Colonel placed a gentle hand over the Englishwoman's mouth and shook her shoulder harder.
Petra started up with a gasp. "Sorry," said Roberta. "But I need you to take over for Andrea downstairs." Newkirk nodded without a word of complaint, blinking dazedly.
The Colonel went downstairs while Newkirk dressed, and poured two cups of ersatz coffee. She took one down to Carter, and informed the girl that she was about to be relieved.
"Anything else come in tonight?" Andrea probably would have woken her had anything come through, but she wanted to confirm, just in case.
"Nothing, Colonel." Andrea replied with a yawn.
Roberta sighed. "Looks like we're in for a quiet week. How's he been?" She gestured to Grant.
"He's just been sleeping. It's actually almost eerie how much he sleeps."
Roberta looked over to the RCAF man lying on the cot. He wasn't much older than twenty. "It's that age. And the fact that he was up for almost twenty four hours running for his life before we found him. Let him sleep. He'll be up and antsy soon enough."
She climbed up the ladder back into the living room. Newkirk shuffled past, cup of coffee in hand, still groggy but at least dressed, wearing a warm pair of wool trousers with a blue sweater vest pulled over a short-sleeved blouse. Her curly bob was pinned behind her ears.
"'ve good day't work, Colonel," she mumbled as she headed down to the radio room.
"Thanks, Newkirk. Get LeBeau to relieve you in four hours or so." Newkirk nodded, wordlessly. She would probably be complaining in a few hours, but for now, she was so compromised by exhaustion she was almost sweet.
A heavy knock at the door. "Okay Shultz is here. I'll see you later." WIth that, she headed off.
Sergeant Schultz was waiting by the car for her. In the past, he had waited at the door, until one disorganized morning he had caught a glimpse of the trap door under the fireplace. In the moment, Colonel Hogan had made the call to spill just enough of the operation that Schultz knew he should report it, but realized he couldn't, because the tunnel ran into the camp he was supposed to guard, and that simple fact would attract a great deal of Gestapo attention to him. The more time that passed, the more compromising his position became if he ever were to reveal what was happening in the little house to anyone.
When they arrived at camp, Colonel Klink was already awake and a frenzy of nervous frustration. "There you are, Sergeant. What took you so long?" he cried, as Schultz pulled up to the Kommandantur.
"I was just picking up Frau Hoffman from her house like I always do," Shultz began. Klink ignored him, barreling on with his moaning.
"How very typical! A surprise inspection by the Gestapo, and both my sergeant of the guard and my secretary are missing -"
"The Gestapo are here?" Roberta asked with some alarm.
"Not yet," Klink complained. "But Major Hochstetter telephoned at five this morning to let me know he was coming today."
Roberta's insides rolled a little. Hochstetter had recently taken over management of the Gestapo and SS in Hammelburg, the nearest town to both her farmhouse and Stalag Thirteen. Unlike Klink or Schultz, she knew he wasn't a man to be played with lightly - he wasn't very smart, but in his position that was not necessarily a plus. Putting Hochstetter in charge was like handing a scalpel to an ignorant surgeon - he wouldn't necessarily find what he was looking for, but he could make one hell of a mess while trying. And he was less predictable than the Luftwaffe command at Stalag Thirteen.
Right now, though, she couldn't focus on her own worries. Klink needed to be defused. "Alright, Herr Kommandant," she began, authoritatively. "Schultz will get the prisoners in line, won't you, sergeant? Come inside and I will make you a cup of coffee. What time will the Major be here?"
"He didn't say. You know the Gestapo." Klink seemed a little calmer already.
"Always wanting to be shrouded in a cloud of mystery, yes. Sergeant Schultz and I will get everything organized, right, sergeant?"
"Erm - Ja?" Schultz replied, as if he weren't sure that was the right answer.
"Alright," said Klink. "But the prisoners are not to know the Major is coming! His orders were very strict on that!"
"Really, Kommandant?" followed Roberta. "You, a Colonel, taking orders from a Major? Even if he is Gestapo -"
"Not, today, please, Frau Robbi," Klink interjected, using the Colonel's German first name. "I'm not in the mood." With that he stalked inside, radiating stress with every step.
"Okay, Schultz," Klink's powerful secretary turned to Schultz with a gleam in her eye that set off alarm bells inside the sergeant's head. "I need to talk to Major Olsen."
"But, Frau Hoffman, the Kommandant was very specific! The prisoners are not to know the Major is coming to camp."
"And they won't know, Schultz," The sergeant looked more relaxed, as Roberta smiled. "Except Major Olsen."
The sergeant's anxiety instantly spiked again. "But please, Frau Robbi, I can't -"
"You have to, Schultz, otherwise when the Gestapo gets here they'll find the secret tunnel-" Schultz blocked his ears until Roberta grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands away from his head as she continued. "And if they find that, under your nose as sergeant, and how you didn't tell them everything you knew, and then -"
"That's enough!" Schultz almost cried in despair. "Always you do this to me. Fine. I will get Olsen for you. But only this time!"
"Sure, sergeant," she replied, as he headed for the barracks. Once he was out of earshot, she added with a chuckle, "You keep telling yourself that."
A few moments later, Olsen was hurrying across the compound, tailed at a generous distance by Schultz. Very likely the sergeant wanted nothing to do with what they were speaking about. Olsen was the senior officer at Stalag thirteen - a young fellow with serious eyes - shot down shortly after his promotion to Major and transferred to Stalag 13. The promotion and the transfer had all been part of the plan for the operation - Mama Bear needed an inside man in the camp. On top of that, Olsen would sometimes call in impersonations of German officers over the phone, since London had made sure of his fluency in German before sending him over. When the situation called for it, he could be smuggled to the radio under the little house through the tunnel under his bunk, though only occasionally, and for a short time.
"What's up, Colonel?" Olsen asked, quietly.
"Hochstetter is paying us a visit today. I need you to make sure the tunnel is on total lock down for a couple days."
"Yes, ma'am. Anything else?"
"Not at the moment. I'll keep you updated."
"Right."
At that moment, Klink burst out of his office once more. "Frau Hoffman, what are you doing with Major Olsen! I need you inside!"
"Coming, sir," she callled back. "I was just telling this man of your orders to keep all men confined to barracks until further notice, right, Major?"
"But Frau Hoffman," Olsen whined dramatically, loud enough for Klink to hear. "The Kommandant can't force us into the barracks for no reason. What's going on that you won't tell us, sir?" If Olsen's theatrical tone was a little over the top, Klink did not notice.
"That is NONE of your concern, Prisoner!" If Olsen had been hammy, Schultz's performance was the whole pig roast.
"That's none of your concern, Major! Schultz, escort this man to his barracks and confine all prisoners to quarters!"
"Jawohl," Schultz returned, happy just to have something to do that didn't involve potential treason. He scuttled off, ushering Olsen back to the barracks and yelling orders to his men scattered around the compound.
Hochstetter's car pulled into camp less than half an hour later. As he stalked into Roberta's office, seemed strangely calm, even leering at her as he entered. He placed both hands on her desk, leaning towards her. She did not avert her gaze, staring the Gestapo man straight in his beady little eyes.
"Good morning, Frau. The Kommandant is in I presume?"
"Yes, Major," Roberta replied, getting up to show him into the inner office.
"Oh, by the way, I am sorry I have not yet come out to visit your house. I will come by one of these days and meet your - sisters, are they?"
"Just friends, Herr Major. We all moved in together when our husbands went to fight the allies." That was their official cover story, and for each of them there was paper documentation of a husband in the German forces. Carter's was missing, presumed dead somewhere in the North Atlantic, LeBeau's had been killed by a shell in North Africa, and Newkirk's and the Colonel's had disappeared into a blizzard on the Eastern Front.
"Oh, yes," Hochstetter rasped back, with forced sympathy. "How unfortunate that all of you should have lost your husbands to the war."
"Not lost, sir, just not found yet," she replied. She had better keep the act up well today.
"Yes. Anyway," the Gestapo man went on. "I have been meaning to acquaint myself with the more remote areas under my jurisdiction, and will certainly drop in on you ladies at your house sometime."
"Just let me know," answered Roberta, innocently. "So we can have coffee ready."
"Don't worry about the coffee." Hochstetter's leer was becoming unbearable. "I will stop by when I am next in your area." In other words, the visit would be a surprise. Roberta didn't like the implied threat in the Major's words. She opened the door for Hochstetter to walk into Klink's office, and followed him in.
"Major Hochstetter!" Klink cried, leaping out of his chair. "So nice of you to drop by, so good to see you -"
"Shut up, Klink."
"Certainly, Major, I don't want to waste your time. How can Stalag Thirteen accommodate the Gestapo?" When it came to grovelling, Klink was the master.
"You can accomodate the Gestapo by shutting up and listening to me. Dismiss your secretary, Klink."
"Can't I bring you two gentlemen coffee?" Roberta asked.
"We must be in private, Klink." Hochstetter growled.
"I assure you, Herr Major, Frau Hoffman is one of the finest, most devoted - " Klink shook his fist with patriotic assurance, but Hochstetter ignored him.
"I don't care if she's Reichsmarschall Goering's own sister,. I want to speak to you alone!"
In a snap Klink's obsequious fawning had returned. "Well if you want her out, she's out. Frau Hoffman, leave us."
Careful not to show her annoyance, Roberta left the room. Once outside, she realized Hochstetter had left a guard standing by her office door, watching her. So much for eavesdropping. She pretended to scribble on a piece of paper, trying to look occupied while she considered the situation. However, soon after the conversation began, Hochstetter's high-pitched growl became so loud and passionate a few audible phrases began to float through the doors. All the while, the Gestapo guard looked intensely uncomfortable,as if he knew the secretary should not be hearing this important information, but also was keenly aware that any interruption of the Major at this point would be severely reprimanded. Roberta kept her smile to herself.
"You will cooperate with the Gestapo, Herr Colonel," he was saying. Klink whined a response that she didn't catch, but have made Hochstetter furious. "Do not argue, with me, Klink!" He yelled, "This factory -" at that point, Hochstetter must have realized how loud he was speaking, because he stopped himself and the rest of what he said was inaudible. But Roberta had a lead - a new top-secret factory in the area.
A moment later, Klink was opening the door and issuing a hasty order. "Frau Hoffman, tell Schultz to start preparing the VIP quarters for Major Hochstetter and one guest immediately."
"Jawohl, Kommandant," she answered, rising. So the top-secret factory was accompanied by a top-secret guest. Curiouser and curiouser.
000
"Girls, it looks like we have a job after all," Roberta announced, taking off her coat and hanging it the closet.
"Colonelle?" Louise replied, coming out of the kitchen and dusting flour covered hands on her apron.
"Oh, hi, LeBeau. Whatcha making?"
"Apple strudel."
"Perfect, we may need to talk to Schultz in a day or two," said Roberta. "Would you get the other two? Meeting in the living room - five minutes."
Louise took off her apron and obeyed. Five minutes later, Carter had come in from the barn and Newkirk was closing the trapdoor from the radio room.
Roberta spoke to Petra first. "Did Kinch or anyone else call in today?"
"No one on the radio. Bur Oskar called on the phone."
"Oh yeah?" The Colonel was surprised - Oskar, who supplied the dogs to Stalag 13, didn't often contact them, especially not by regular landline.
"His big Alsatian, Nora, is expecting a litter," Newkirk replied. Carter's face lit up. "He's wondering if we want one before they go to the Germans."
Andrea gasped in excitement. "A puppy? Oh, Colonel, please -"
"We'll talk about this later," Hogan answered. There were more important things to discuss than dogs right now.
"So, what happened at the camp today?" asked Louise.
"Gestapo showed up," the colonel answered, as the girls' eyes widened. " That new major, Hochstetter. The Nazis are putting in some high priority factory in the area. Unfortunately, that's all we know for now, because Hochstetter kept an eye on Klink for the rest of the day - I couldn't get him alone to get any more out of him."
"And the Gestapo are providing security for the factory?" Louise asked. "That's not good."
"No, it's not. If we don't do something, who knows how long they'll be hanging around the area." The colonel replied.
Andrea whistled. "We'd have to close up shop."
"Yup," said Roberta. "And our man downtairs might be living there until the end of the war."
"A factory, eh?" Petra grinned. "Seems like a nice place to drop a few bombs."
"Unfortunately we'll need co-ordinates before we can get it bombed. And it might be good to know a little more about what the Germans are planning there before we get the air force to flatten it," Roberta nodded.
"How are we going to get more information, Colonel?" asked Andrea.
"That's the hard part, Carter. Normally I'd just wheedle it out of Klink, but with Hochstetter snooping around that's not going to be an option."
"Well then, how?" LeBeau frowned.
"I've got a few ideas." Roberta's eyes sparkled, and the girls leaned in, attentive. The room became hushed and focussed.
"Carter, tonight after lights out, you and I will take the tunnel and pay Olsen a visit, see if he knows anything we don't."
"Right, colonel." The young American snapped a salute, bringing on an disparaging eye roll from Newkirk.
"LeBeau - that apple strudel you made - save it for tomorrow, and when Schultz stops in we'll ask him some questions."
"Oui, colonelle."
Newkirk leaned forward. "And for me, colonel?"
"You head into town tomorrow, fish around for any new factories that are looking for workers," replied Roberta. "I don't know if it will turn out anything, but it's worth a shot."
"Right, ma'am."
"Okay, you all clear on your assignments?" The girls nodded, eyes bright. A challenge like this always brought out the best in them. "Good. Now everyone get some rest. Carter, we move out at oh-two-hundred."