May 1
The Motor Pool – 1457 Hours
Rob has, especially after I wrote that thought last, been watching me more carefully since yesterday. At least I haven't told him yet, but my secret is out in the open finally, even if it was only to a few people. And some of these people are here right now, enjoying the sunshine and washing and waxing Klink's staff car. We're having some warm weather today, compared to recent rain storms and chilly roll calls.
Oh! I'm getting wet. Newkirk and Carter often have water fights and being near them might be considered slightly dangerous with the soap and water. I'm laughing with and at them and am trying to forget what has happened in the tunnels earlier this morning after roll call. It wasn't just that my secret was revealed to some of the men. It was more of the message that was sent that scared me.
Breakfast yesterday had, obviously, stopped me from writing more. I should have stopped LeBeau from forcing me to eat when he was serving and I had no chance in the argument. He's as persistent as Rob is and will always get his way when it comes to the food. Writing is soothing to me and the uneasiness in this potential mission tonight is no exception to this, so there is no point in eating all the time…for the time being, at least.
Now, thinking about this, I am trembling to write mostly because of the message we had received from the new Underground unit this morning. So, much as I like to say that this journal calms me down, I couldn't dare to write about the incident from the day before. My neck was hurting and no one is listening to me when I said that this was going to be a trap except for those who hit the target of the danger.
Baker, as always, took the message and handed it to Rob. All six of us were down in the tunnels as Baker said there was a message from the new Underground group: Newkirk, Carter, LeBeau, Baker, Rob and me. Baker was a bit shocked (his interest in the message had a surprising peak) as he handed over the note. Rob just raised his eyebrow.
"What does it say, Sir?" Carter asked as Rob started reading it.
"Blimey, Andrew, let the Colonel read it!" Newkirk exclaimed.
"Wait," Rob said, putting his hand up for silence before answering. "The new unit asked that instead of the five of us going that only I and someone else come along to destroy the fuel depot with them."
"Why would they change their minds so quickly?" LeBeau asked, moving forward. "They said that they needed all the help that they could get and London ordered us to accompany them."
"There could have been a security breach," Rob said, "and they didn't want to risk the five of us planting the bombs at the fuel depot. The fewer the men, the less the detection we're going to have. It's also less men caught and interrogated by the Gestapo. However, if that were so, then the mission would have been scrapped."
My knees suddenly felt like buckling, but I kept myself standing straight. My entire midsection had been pushed back through some handy-dandy tight clothes I ripped up, giving me the appearance that I was gaining weight, but it still gave a suspicious air to the camp. It made me feel dizzy and the baby kept moving about, kicking me.
When I was trying to keep myself conscious and the quick wave of nausea down, I heard Newkirk say, "Might I said, Colonel, that I do not 'ike this one bit. I think the Gestapo is out there." My neck prickled when he said that and then I knew that Newkirk was right: this is a trap.
"Rob, we're going to be ambushed if you go on with this mission," I said suddenly after that. The five in the radio room then gave all of their attention to me. I felt myself blush swiftly and my struggle to keep myself as normal as possible proved invisible as I felt my feelings change from sick to embarrassed.
Oh, damn, how I went too far! I usually addressed Rob by his given rank, but never by first name, ever. He, however, has done the same except when the mood has him wanting me to see something that he does. Usually, that is the time when I'm being stubborn and am on a course of reckless action, of which he thought that I was doing when I said that.
When the surprise died down in the next minute, Rob slowly asked (as if I were some idiot), "Why do you think that, Colonel?"
Fighting back another wave of nausea (it came back as soon as my embarrassment subsided), I said with a tinge of jitters in my voice (sounding as if I had too many cups of coffee), "This does tell us a few things. True, they might fear that the Gestapo is watching them. Then again, we have no information about this particular group. London has given nothing and they, too, have admitted that they have not given up any information about themselves. The group is only run by a brother/sister team that London cannot even see anything wrong with. They have not been dangling themselves with German politics, so they think."
I sighed, "On the other hand, their lack of confidential and credits might be a good thing. Nobody knows who they are, so it is harder to track them. Both of them live right near Gestapo Headquarters in Mainz and many people think that it is a good sign that they wouldn't dare defy Germany and its rise…or immediate downfall, I should say now. But the dangers outweigh whatever good that could be said about them. I agree with Newkirk. I say that we should stay here tonight."
"I say that we should, too," Carter said immediately after me.
"Oui, I vote that we stay here tonight," LeBeau said.
"Colonel Michalovich has a point, Colonel Hogan," Baker said defiantly, the first time ever. "This could be a trap." He didn't indicate which side he was on, like the others, but it was clear to me that Baker was defying one colonel and favoring the other because of the possible consequences of going out later in the evening.
Newkirk was triumphant that he suggested the counterattack against Rob to me, so was giving me a smug glare. Rob wasn't having any of it, however. "But what about the mission tonight?" he asked, almost defeated, as his men crowded to my side.
"I know that this isn't a democracy, but an operation on the direct order basis," I said, fighting the next sea of nausea attacking my boat again. "I have the certain feeling that this is truly a trap from the Gestapo. If you want, I can personally radio the message to London myself and tell them the mission has been scrapped."
Rob sighed, resigned. "You're right," he said, crossing his arms. "This has been way too skeptical in detail and I should have thought it over more carefully. It's my fault."
"It happens to the best of us, especially me," I said, forcing a smile to come back to my face. "Why don't I do that message now?"
"Yes, you'd better get going on it if you want London to forgive us," Rob said, his voice full of mischief at the moment. "Baker can help you. London has a new code to get through to. Maybe an explanation could tone them down too."
Rob's brown eyes twinkled as they did when he was up to something and I knew that he was going to pull something later on, so I had better be alert and ready for whatever he has coming to me. I felt closer to him ever since that night in the supply room in the tunnels, but ever since I have been carrying this secret, I've calmed down. I have played with him a lot more, laughing at his jokes instead of scorning them (the men think this is funny too) and even mouthing off more. Olsen, who often has been sitting with me when we spy on the Krauts, commented to me one day when I was at his barracks that I should have joined the Navy instead of the Army.
"Why?" I asked as I averted my eyes to the other direction as Schultz was coming our way outside. The window was open, to let in some fresh air as the afternoon was warm for once, and the chattering always was limited when this happens. Mostly, the windows stay closed because of the cold.
As soon as the danger had passed, Olsen said, "Ma'am, with all due respect, you have a nastier mouth than all of the men here put together."
I laughed with the remaining men in there and was still smiling as I recalled that moment only a month ago, asking Baker at the present time to move over so that I could talk to Baby Bear and to give me the new code, of which he did. Baby Bear seems to be drunk most of his time on-duty, but has been faithful and sending our unique messages to the Head and letting them decide what to do with our problems.
