Hogan was coming down farther away from camp than he had the first time. He would need a fast car to arrive before Schultz noticed his absence. Near the burning factory he saw a cluster of cars and men - obviously the fire department's command post. He steered the 'chute and landed a little over a block away.
"Nicht bewegen!" yelled a hoarse voice. "Hände hoch!" Footfalls approached from behind. A short stocky man with thick red hair, long-handled mustache, heavy eyebrows and a Sauer 38H pistol in each hand scurried in front. Hogan might have thought he was trying to be a live version of Yosemite Sam except that the character probably hadn't been created yet and in any case his cartoons wouldn't be available to most European audiences.
"An enemy spy! I should shoot…"
"Colonel Klaus von Hoganhoff, on a secret state mission."
"Liar! Prepare to…"
"Do we have to see Major Hochstetter!"
The man went pale. "N-nein, Herr Oberst, we don't have to see him whose name must not be spoken."
"Your name must. Well?"
"Uwe Schmidt, Herr Oberst."
"Resume your patrol, Schmidt, and never have more than one gun out at a time."
"Jawohl, Herr Oberst." Schmidt turned and marched away.
Hogan bundled the parachute, stuffed it in an ashcan, and ran to the command area by the gates to Speerwerke. Most of the cars there were fitted with wood gas generators and wouldn't be fast. The only two without generators were the fire chief's Opel Kapitän and a big maroon Peugeot 402.
"Hey! I'm Colonel Hoganhoff, Luftwaffe. Hogan thumped the Peugeot. "I need this car, and a driver!"
A slender young man, if he was old enough for the term, approached somewhat hesitantly and raised his right hand as if he was about to swear an oath. He was soaked and shivering. The fire was winding down and some of the other men also looked idle. They were not as wet as the youth but looked eager to be dry and warm.
"Your name, boy?"
"Otto Jung, Herr Oberst. I'm Chief Jung's son."
"Fine, son. You will take me to Stalag 13."
Jung drove none too well, lugging the engine with every gearshift. Hogan winced, but inside he was glad for the pretext to take the car himself.
"Stop! You don't know the first thing about driving and besides this car is too fine for a runt like you. How'd you get it?"
"My brother in the Heer got it in Paris back in '40, Sir. Then after he got his legs blown off at Vitebsk two months ago he gave it to me, Sir."
"It's not yours any more. I shall drive to the Stalag 13 motor pool where the clutch you ruined will be replaced. Then this vehicle will be requisitioned for the war effort. Now get out of my sight!"
He felt sorry for the sniffling youth and sorrier for the crippled brother. A half-century of postwar life had softened him, he supposed. But he was back in the all-time deadliest human conflict which was very near its climax. Millions of people across Europe were already suffering much worse than Otto Jung.
Hogan put the car in gear ... and lugged the engine himself. Too many years of automatics!
Getting the car into camp ... Hogan decided to chance it with the gates. Through early June the morning gate guard was Corporal Bartold "Bat" Fauner, about sixty, who would in mid-month get a medical discharge due to weakening eyesight (Hogan had yet to hear the term at the time, but now suspected macular degeneration). A better commandant than Klink would already have taken him off duty.
But a better commandant had not taken over from Klink. Bat squinted at Hogan's fake ID, then at Hogan himself. He frowned.
"You look so much like..."
Hogan felt his ears go hot. Oh boy, don't underestimate the enemy. Time to drum up the charm again.
"You will have Ivan in your sights, or should I say a thousand Ivans, unless you let me through promptly. This car is a present for one of your camp officers. Move!"
Shaking as if he was already experiencing a Siberian season other than summer, Bat opened the gate and waved Hogan through. In the mirror Hogan saw Bat's lips move; the man was uttering a well-known phrase.
Ich sehe nichts.
The garage had no one on duty, as Hogan expected. He parked the car inside, entered the tunnel connection, and shed his disguise. Soon he was at the portal to his home barracks.
Hogan stepped into the barracks and made sure that the bunk closed before Schultz entered. There would be no "I see nothing" from him this time. As before, Schultz was wearing white gloves, and as before he warned that prisoners would be shot if they strayed out of barracks.
After Schultz left, Hogan told his men that the German General Staff would arrive in less than an hour, but as he spoke the image of St. Elmo's Fire on von Scheider's walker played in his mind's eye. He couldn't let that delay the hoax. Klink would have to believe that he would be promoted to Chief of the German General Staff. Hogan went ahead and told the boys that the mission involved D-Day and psychological warfare, forestalling Carter this time.
As before, Newkirk and Kinch started the hoax by phone. Hogan went to Klink's office to watch his reaction. Exactly like the first time, Klink fell for Hogan's congratulatory handshake, just for a second or two, after being told by "Hitler" that he was on the Most Incompetent Colonel nomination list.
Unlike the first time, the hour passed … and another … and neither von Scheider nor any other member of the General Staff arrived.
St. Elmo's Fire burned bright in Hogan's mind, so bright that Newkirk noticed.
"You all right, Colonel? You're white as a sheet."
"Fox alert," Hogan said. He repeated it for all to hear. "You know the drill. Make like it's not a drill but don't destroy anything until I tell you."
His heart raced at the thought of von Scheider also replaying. He expected company, and lots of it.
He went to the radio and contacted London. After informing Papa Bear that von Scheider and his staff were no-shows, Hogan talked about a certain landing zone, the one which had been most troublesome. He almost said "Omaha" but stopped himself just in time and used known place names instead. He especially urged Papa Bear to pass word of how dangerous the Vierville area was.
He noticed that Kinch was hovering close by, still looking cool but undoubtedly nervous inside. A prolonged radio transmission would increase the risk of detection, but this might be the only chance for Hogan's first-time knowledge to do good.
