Lost and Not Found
"Raus, raus, everybody up for roll call!" Schultz yelled as he flung open the door to Barracks Two.
Newkirk let out a sigh and rolled to the edge of his bunk. "Yeah, Schultz, I'm rausin'," he muttered as he jumped to the floor below. He stole a glance at the empty bunk below his, and a pang of worry and guilt ran through him.
Schultz followed his gaze, after which he looked back at Newkirk questioningly. "Where's Carter?"
"Oh, I'm sure he's around here somewhere, Schultzie," Newkirk lied, not sure yet what the colonel's plan was for covering for the missing sergeant.
Hogan, who had walked up in time to overhear, said, "He escaped, Schultz. You better call out the guards."
Schultz's eyes widened. "Escaped? Oh, Colonel Hogan, please to do not tease me…"
"That's right, Schultz, Carter escaped," Newkirk added, following Hogan's lead, "Must have slipped me mind."
"Yeah, Schultz," Hogan put a hand on the big guard's shoulder, "You'd better call out the guards and start looking for him. We don't want him ruining Colonel Klink's perfect no escape record, do we?" He shook his head 'no', emphasizing the point.
Without realizing it, Schultz started copying Hogan, shaking his head back and forth. "Of course not, Colonel Hogan, the Kommandant would be very angry if that happened," a scowl appeared on his face, "And I'm sure he would take it out on me."
"Well, what are you waiting for then, Schultz?" Hogan gestured to the door, "A prisoner's escaped! Send the guards, release the dogs; there's no time to waste!"
Schultz was already hurrying to the door. He brought his whistle up to his lips and was just about to blow on it, when he glanced back at Hogan, a frown on his face. "Colonel Hogan, this better not be more of your monkey business," his frown changed to a worried expression, "Sergeant Carter will be back, won't he?"
Hogan shrugged. "That's up to you, Schultz."
Schultz turned back and, as he walked out the door, murmured, "Oh, boy, am I in trouble!"
Seconds later, the men in the barracks heard the sound of Schultz's whistle and his shouts to the guards about a prisoner missing.
After watching the German guard leave, Newkirk turned his head to look at Hogan. "Blimey, sir, why did you do that?"
"Maybe they'll find him," Hogan said, tension etched on his face, "The more people looking for him, the better."
LeBeau, who had walked up during Hogan's conversation with Schultz, glanced from the colonel to Newkirk and back. "Carter's not here?"
Kinch, who was right behind LeBeau, replied, "He never came back last night."
"What happened?" asked LeBeau, instantly concerned.
"We'll fill you in after roll call," Hogan said, and started ushering the men outside.
As the men lined up in front of the barracks, they noticed the compound had broken out into a sort of controlled chaos. Guards were joining up near the front gate to form patrols, and one of them had let the dogs loose. Schultz was still barking orders when Klink appeared outside the Kommandantur, an angry scowl on his face.
"What's going on?" Klink yelled as he marched across the compound, headed straight for Schultz.
The German guard snapped to attention and saluted. "Kommandant, one of the prisoners has escaped!"
Klink threw him a sloppy salute in return. "Well, don't just stand there, sound the alarm! Release the dogs! Send out the guards!"
"That's what I just did, Herr Kommandant."
Klink glanced around the compound and, realizing the sergeant was right, snapped, "Yes, of course, I knew that, Schultz!" He then turned his attention to the prisoners in front of Barracks Two, striding quickly over to the line of men and stopping in front of the senior prisoner of war.
"Colonel Hogan, what is the meaning of this?"
Hogan leaned forward a tad and looked at him quizzically, "The meaning of what, sir?"
Klink's scowl deepened. "How could you let one of your men escape?"
Hogan straightened back up and shook his head slightly. "Believe me, Kommandant, he didn't have my permission."
"Humph!" Klink brought his hand up and waggled his finger at Hogan. "Until he's found, you and the prisoners are restricted to the barracks!" He dropped his arm and yelled, "Dismissed!"
As Klink turned around and stomped back to his office, Hogan turned toward the barracks and, with a glance at his men, said, "In my quarters."
The three men headed for the door and, after entering, crossed the main area of the barracks and went into Hogan's quarters. The colonel was already there, leaning against his bunk. Kinch closed the door as Newkirk and LeBeau moved over to stand in front of the desk.
"All right," Hogan said when the men were settled, "First off, LeBeau, that factory Newkirk and Carter went to investigate last night is a missile plant."
LeBeau let out a whistle. "Mon Dieu! I'm sure London wasn't happy to hear about that, were they, Colonel?"
Hogan crossed his arms. "No, they weren't. I have a feeling they're going to want us to take care of it, and soon." He let out a sigh and continued, "Which brings me to our bigger problem… Carter's missing."
"Colonel," Newkirk spoke up, "Let me go look for him, I'm sure I can find him. You know Carter, most likely got himself lost. He's probably sneaking 'round the forest by that trail we followed, wondering which way back to camp –"
Hogan held up his hand. "No, Newkirk, it's broad daylight, and the guards are going to be all over the place."
"But, sir…" Newkirk pleaded.
Hogan could see the anguish in Newkirk's eyes. He stepped over to his English corporal and, laying a hand on his shoulder, said, "Look, I'm just as worried about him as you are. But you can't blame yourself, Newkirk; you did what you were supposed to do. Wherever Carter is, we're just gonna have to believe he's okay." He paused; then added, "Let's just hope one of the guards finds him."
Newkirk still wanted to protest, but he knew Hogan was right; it would be too dangerous for him to go out and look for Carter right now. "Yes, sir," he nodded slightly, looking defeated.
Hogan squeezed Newkirk's shoulder. "Tell you what, if they don't find him, we'll go out tonight and look for him ourselves."
Newkirk perked up at that. "Now you're talkin', Colonel," he replied, as LeBeau and Kinch nodded in agreement.
"All right," Hogan dropped his hand and looked at his radioman, "Kinch, go down to the tunnel and see if London's been trying to contact us."
Kinch nodded, "Yes, sir."
Hogan turned to his other two men. "Newkirk, you and LeBeau go with him; I want you all to study the map. Newkirk, show them the route you took."
"Right, sir," the Englishman answered.
As the three men began to head for the door, LeBeau stopped and shot Hogan a glance. "What about you, sir?"
"I'll be down later," Hogan told him, "I want to stay up here for a while, in case Schultz has any news for us."
LeBeau nodded and followed Kinch and Newkirk out of the office. When they'd reached the false bottom bunk, they climbed below. Kinch went to man the radio, and the other two men moved over to the map table. As they leaned in to study it, Newkirk filled LeBeau in briefly about what had happened the previous night, ending with, "Sure wish I was out there lookin' for Carter right now. Blimey, Louis, I never should have come back without him."
LeBeau placed a comforting hand on Newkirk's back. "Don't blame yourself, Pierre, it sounds to me like you didn't have a choice."
"Maybe, but I'm right sick about it."
"Don't worry, mon ami," LeBeau tried to reassure his friend, "If the guards don't find him, we will."
Newkirk let out a sigh. "I hope so, Louis, I really hope so."
He's standing in the field near his home, watching the sun spread out its glorious red and orange tendrils of ebbing light as it slowly sets beyond the horizon. The breeze caresses his face, the grass sways at his feet. He hears the chirps and whistles of the birds as they sing the sun to sleep, and watches the fireflies start their nightly dance among the waving grass. A peaceful scene, fading slowly to black… When suddenly the air whips up, the wind turns cold and starts to blow fiercely, chilling his exposed skin and numbing his face. Snow joins in, circling around him, piling up quickly and trapping his legs until there's no way to escape. He wraps his arms around himself in an effort to stay warm, but the cold is too much and he starts to shiver…
Carter squeezed his eyes shut tight as he shivered himself awake, the pain in his leg quickly making its presence known. He drew his coat tighter around himself before blinking his eyes open and staring out into the confined space surrounding him. It was still fairly dark at the bottom of the deep pit he was in, but there was enough light filtering down from above that he could tell it was daytime.
Carter took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I was hoping I wasn't still here," he mumbled to himself. He turned his head to look up at the opening. Well, I better figure out some way to get out of here, or else… he stopped, not wanting to finish that thought.
Once again he put his left hand on the ground in front of his body and pushed himself up to a seated position, gritting his teeth as he did so, his head throbbing with the effort, his leg letting him know exactly how it felt about being moved. Before he could change his mind, he also scooted himself a few inches towards the dirt wall behind him, so he could lean back against it. Once he'd gotten himself situated, he let out the breath he didn't even know he'd been holding, and relaxed his arms, bringing his hands up and plopping them on his lap.
Carter sat there for a few moments, letting his body accustom itself to the new position. As he glanced around his enclosure, wondering if he could try to climb out even with a broken leg, he felt his stomach rumble and realized he was hungry. I guess it's been a while since I've eaten anything. Thinking of food made him aware of how thirsty he was, too. Well, this isn't good… I don't have any water with me, either.
He craned his neck to look up at the opening, and could see a touch of green surrounding the rim, with the bright blue of the sky beyond. A thought popped into his head, and he said aloud, "I wonder what time it is?" He grabbed the flashlight and turned it on, shining it at his watch. "Ten o'clock in the morning? Boy, that's the latest I've slept in since I've been a prisoner of war!" He clicked off the flashlight and set it down next to him. "Of course, I'd much rather be back at camp, I wouldn't have minded so much getting up early for roll call…Uh, oh, I wasn't there for roll call this morning, was I? I wonder what the colonel had to do to cover for me?" He thought for a moment. "Oh, I'm sure he came up with something; Colonel Hogan always knows what to do." He looked back up at the opening above. "Sure wish he'd show up here right about now, and find me…"
Carter sighed, and then his face filled with a look of determination. "I've got to try to get out of here." He placed his palms down flat on either side of him, drew his left leg up – bringing his foot level with the ground, and began to push himself up, using the wall behind him as leverage.
As he rose, he moved his hands up the wall while pushing hard with his foot. The pain in his right leg predictably worsened, but it didn't seem quite as bad as it had the previous night; either that, or he was developing a tolerance to it. Still, it hurt, a lot, and he grimaced as he got himself to a standing position. Of course, that's when his head really started throbbing, and he had to stand still for a few moments with his hand on the wall for support.
At last the pain in his head diminished to a dull ache and he turned to face the dirt wall. Maybe I can pull myself up with my arms. He grabbed the wall with both hands and tried to dig his fingers in, but his gloves were making it difficult, so he pulled them off, tossed them to the ground and tried again. This time he got a good grip, but when he started to pull himself up, his fingers slid right into the wall and his hands slipped off, leaving him with nothing but two handfuls of dirt.
Frustrated, he tried again, but was met with the same result; the dirt was too soft to support his weight. Dang it! How am I supposed to get out of here? As he stood there on his one good leg, leaning against the wall, he did the only thing he could think of; he tilted his face up and began yelling.
"Hey, is anyone up there? Can you hear me? I'm down here, in this hole… Please, can anyone hear me? I need help; I can't get out of here by myself! Hello? Is anyone there?"
Carter stopped to listen, but didn't hear anything. He tried again, but got no response. After a few more attempts, he had to quit; his throat was becoming very dry. I sure could use a drink of water, he thought miserably.
Feeling defeated, he braced himself against the wall and slid carefully down to his original sitting position. Pain shot through his leg as he sat, and he let out a groan. Once seated, he brought his hands up and cradled his face. What am I going to do?
As the day wore on, Carter sat there at the bottom of the pit, his despair growing with each passing hour. Every so often he would call out for help until his throat got too dry and scratchy, but his cries went unanswered.
At one point in the late afternoon, he was running his hand along the ground next to him and, feeling movement, grabbed his flashlight and pointed it downward. There was an earthworm crawling slowly across the dirt; a rather large one, at that. He picked it up and, as he turned it over in his hand, a memory came back to him; a summer from his youth that he had spent with his Sioux cousin, Angry Rabbit Who Has Thorn in Cottontail. They'd been playing outside, picking up things they found on the ground and examining them, when Carter (or, better known to his cousin as, Little Deer Who Goes Swift and Sure Through Forest), came upon a big, juicy earthworm. He showed it to his cousin, who promptly dared him to eat it. "No way!" he'd said, and had tossed it back on the ground.
But looking at the worm now, Carter wondered if he should try it. His hunger had grown along with his thirst and, although his thirst was winning at the moment, his stomach was feeling pretty empty.
Making up his mind, he brushed the dirt off of the worm as best he could, and popped it into his mouth. As soon as he felt it move on his tongue, he made a face and spat it back out, Blech! "Ugh, that's terrible!" he said as he put the worm back on the ground and let it go on its merry way. "No, I don't think I'll ever be hungry enough to eat one of those."
More hours went by, and the day faded into night. After a few more attempts to get anyone's attention, Carter resigned himself to spending another night in his earthy prison. He was starting to get scared that he'd never get out of there, but he tried to hold out hope that at least Newkirk might find him. The Englishman should have some idea where he was; after all, they'd come out to this area together. Newkirk, I hope you're looking for me…
Carter lay back down on his side and closed his eyes. He pulled his jacket tight around him and, after a long while wrestling with his thoughts, finally fell asleep.
"All right, fellas, let's go over the route one more time," Hogan said, addressing Kinch, LeBeau and Newkirk.
They were down in the tunnel after having spent a long day anxiously waiting for news of Carter, and receiving none. The guards still hadn't found him, so Hogan was making good on his promise from earlier in the day.
The men were huddled around the map on the table, and Hogan was pointing to a spot just outside of camp. "After we exit the emergency tunnel, we'll meet up here. We'll make our way to this area," he moved his hand along the map, "Near where the missile plant is. Newkirk, you'll lead the way, since you were there last night." Hogan looked up at the men to emphasize his next point. "We're gonna need to be extra careful, the woods are still crawling with guards."
"Yes, sir," they answered, almost in unison.
"All right, is everyone ready?" Hogan asked.
"More than ready, Colonel," Newkirk replied impatiently.
"Then let's go," Hogan said, and with that, the group headed down the tunnel, up through the hollow tree stump, and out into the night beyond.
