Chapter 3
1944...
Down in the communications room below Barracks Two, Kinch, Newkirk, and LeBeau were listening to the conversation in Klink's office. Up top, three prisoners were standing right outside the door to the barracks acting as spotters and another was just inside the room to relay a warning of any guards who happened to approach.
"I really don't know how he does it," said LeBeau. "Or how the Boche falls for it."
"One-a the true mysteries a' life," agreed Newkirk. "Carter, not Klink. The Kraut 'ud fall for just about anything."
Kinch held up his hand to quieten the others as he listened for the signal. With their chatter continuing unabated, he finally picked up the little speaker and held it closer to his ear.
"There. Showtime!" LeBeau and Newkirk went silent as they turned to watch Kinch.
Operating the bypass telephone switchboard, Kinchloe rang through to the kommandant's office. In perfect German but using a different voice, he said, "Hello, this is Professor Heinrich Kinchmeyer, Leipzig University. I must speak to the camp kommandant at once. It's urgent!"
"Just one moment, sir," came Hilda's reply. With their ears as close to the telephone receiver as they could get, LeBeau made a swooning expression on hearing Hilda's voice, causing Newkirk to barely stifle a laugh.
Klink came on the line moments later. After brief introductions, Kinch said, "Kommandant, my department, the best in Germany, has received word of a strange creature having been seen in the Hammelburg area. There was also a report of it being seen near Stalag 13. Tell me, have you seen anything out of the ordinary? Quickly, man, it may be a matter of life and death!"
"Well, everyone knows it's impossible, but we thought we saw a creature that looked like an American skunk in the woods outside our—"
"Das stinktier! You must stay away from it at all costs. We believe it is from a secret American experimental program where they are breeding these creatures to use them in sickening our troops. The Americans must have finished their work and have set about releasing them. We must report this to Berlin at once! Exactly where was it spotted?"
Klink attempted to explain the location, but Hogan was shaking his head.
"Ho-gan! What is it?"
"Well, Colonel, it's like that telephone game. Everybody changes a little detail and pretty soon little Johnny is pulling on little Betty's heartstrings instead of tugging on her pigtails. You probably ought to report it to Berlin yourself so you get the details right. And any credit, instead of some stuff-shirt professor."
Adjusting his monocle, it was Colonel Wilhelm Klink's turn to smile.
~HH~
The silhouetted officer continued. "We didn't know how Papa Bear did it, but the information got to the Germans, and once it did, they acted on it."
"Acted how?"
"In the days leading up to the invasion of Normandy, Allied intelligence intercepted a number of frantic German messages about the American "schmutzfink" program. It was code and our guys didn't know what it was at first since it's like the insult 'skunk' as in 'dirty dog' or something like that. One such message, one which I understand clued us in on what was happening, was sent to a German spy in the United States. Fortunately for us, our FBI folks had already turned him, so he was used to confirm the existence of the skunk program and then confirm the rumor that we Americans had developed what was, in essence—pardon the pun—what you mentioned earlier: a super skunk. When word got back to Berlin, Hitler must have hit the roof. We saw messages passed along to a number of German units regarding 'Der Super-Schmutzfink,' how they were to be on alert for it, and how they were to avoid contact and not let it spray them. There was even a suggestion of a reward for the capture of the super skunk—which we later learned they'd classified as mephitis metamorpha since American scientists hadn't filed a name for it—but we never got confirmation on that part."
"So what happened?"
"Shortly after midnight on Tuesday morning, June 6, 1944, several American B17 bombers were filled with cages."
As "You Were There" often did, the show cut to a dramatic recreation of the event...
~HH~
A model of a B-17 bomber suspended by strings was shown "flying" in the night sky. The spinning propellers were simulated with circular pieces of clear plastic. Aircraft noise sounded but then faded as the scene changed to a mock-up of the interior of the plane.
As the bomber entered the drop zone, three men clad in sealed suits began pushing cages, each containing a skunk, out of the bomb bay. Discerning viewers might have noticed that the skunks were, in this case, stuffed animals. A graphic flashed up on the screen showing that a cord connecting the cage to the plane released the parachute when the cage had dropped just a short distance. The parachute deployed and the cage floated down to the ground.
Another graphic showed how one of six trips was activated when the release cage, designed by Professor Weathers and the team, landed, opening its two doors and allowing a very irate common striped skunk to escape. "It's likely that most of the skunks wandered off," said Benbrite as some of the stuffed skunks were shown being pulled away from the cages by strings, "but a few landed in or near their target zones."
A single skunk was shown stiffly and slowly walking out of a cage, which clearly didn't match the graphic shown just seconds earlier, toward a group of buildings that a subtitle on the screen labeled as "German Communications Facility."
The scene transitioned again, this time to inside a soundstage set. With the recent chatter about super skunks, the Germans saw the slowly approaching skunk, its turning wind-up key now clearly visible to the television viewers, and appeared to assume the worst. The actors portraying the Germans technicians and soldiers fled, screaming "Das Super-Stinktier!" Der Super-Schmutzfink!" and "The SuperSkunk!" with bad German accents.
Benbrite's voice again came over the screen as Allied troops were shown taking the facility with uncommon ease.
"American paratroopers supposedly captured at least three such installations abandoned by the Germans who fled from what they believed to be killer superskunks. These posts were destroyed, hampering the Germans' ability to provide updates and coordinate their defensive efforts and potential counterattacks in that area of combat. While no one knows for sure if the skunks saved any Allied lives, it is believed that the breakdown in communications helped contribute to the Germans' confusion in those early hours, making it more difficult for them to respond with reinforcements. If nothing else, it was definitely one of the crazier things that was attempted in a war filled with crazy events."
The scene of exploding buildings and radio towers, taken from old newsreel footage, faded, returning viewers to Benbrite and Professor Weathers.
"Professor, what happened to the skunks?"
"Mr. Benbrite, some may not have survived the parachute drop and others were almost certainly killed in the fighting that ensued across the region. You see, it took our forces about a month to take the whole area around where the skunks were released and until late August before we'd cleared northwest France and could go in and look for them. We recaptured about 20 percent of those initially released. Not knowing the number lost in the battles, we could never confirm whether we'd gotten all of them."
The show cut to Benbrite, now alone, seemingly lost in concentration for a moment before he made a dramatic turn toward the camera.
"As we discussed earlier, it's a well known fact that, in recorded history, there have never been skunks in Europe in nature, but in January 1945, approximately seven months after the D-Day invasion at Normandy, Warner Brothers released a new Looney Tunes cartoon about a skunk originally named Stinky but later renamed Pepé Le Pew." As Benbrite explained this, a clip from the cartoon played in the background. He continued, "Pepé was a Frano-American skunk, which was quite curious since there wasn't a single French skunk anywhere, other than possibly in a zoo...at least there wasn't until June 6, 1944."
"Where would the inspiration for such a character and such a cartoon have originated? The character was co-created and the cartoon was directed by Chuck Jones, who worked with Theodor Geisel, better known to most as Doctor Seuss, during the war. It turned out that these two men worked closely with the United States Army doing numerous training and patriotic films during World War II. As such, it is believed that they had a great deal of inside information not made available to the general public, possibly including the Army's work with the skunks. Warner Brothers representatives refused to speak with us and Mr. Jones had no comment as we prepared this program. Therefore, whether a little known Allied operation had anything to do with inspiring the cartoon, we may never know.
"As a side note, even today, twenty years later, there are occasionally reports of skunk-like creatures being glimpsed in the wild in northwest Europe, but, like the Sasquatch of the American Northwest or Nessie of the Scottish Loch, they remain shadowy, hidden figures who seem to greatly value their privacy. If, that is, they exist at all."
The TV then showed images of the beaches of Normandy as they stood that day intercut with photos of the same locations on that June day of 1944. After a few such transitions, the camera focused in on Benbrite walking a few feet from the evening surf. "Tonight, on this twentieth anniversary, all is calm, unlike that day twenty years ago when the fate of the free world hung in the balance. Tonight, we remember and honor all those who were involved in making the Normandy invasion a success and setting up the groundwork for the ultimate defeat of the Nazis. We at ZBS News hope you've learned something and have experienced these very different parts of D-Day as if you were there! This is Walther Benbrite, reporting on what was then known as Omaha Beach. Good evening."
~HH~
Andrew Carter raised the remote toward the TV and pressed the button. With a metallic click, the picture faded to black, but he just sat quietly, unmoving.
"Andrew?" she asked as she took his hand. "You? You had something to do with this? You were involved in this, weren't you? You...you were the Papa Bear!"
Thinking of his conversation with General Hogan earlier that day, he laughed. Pulling his eyes from the darkened TV screen, he looked toward his wife and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Me? Papa Bear? Gosh, no!" He wanted to tell her more, but he was still bound by his promises, so he looked into her eyes and continued. "Sweetheart, I've told you that I can't talk about what I did in the war. Let's just say that I might have been able to fill in a few of the blanks in that report...if the guys in Washington would let me."
"So do you think it was true then?"
He hesitated before giving a noncommittal shrug. "German soldiers running like scaredy cats? I seriously doubt it. But as for parts of it…Janie, I don't know but as crazy as some of the things the generals—and at least one certain colonel—pulled, or wanted to pull, I guess anything's possible. And think about what Benbrite said about the cartoon. A cartoon about a French-American skunk in France when there've never been skunks in Europe, created by a guy who worked like this—"
He held up two crossed fingers. "—with the U.S. Army through the whole war. A cartoon that gets released just a few months after D-Day and everything that happened, even while the war's still going. I suppose it might—maybe possibly?—be a coincidence?"
He cocked his head at her and raised an eyebrow as he gave her his quirky smile.
She shook her head as she smiled back before putting both hands behind his neck and pulling closer. "Andrew, even after all these years, you constantly amaze me."
She leaned forward and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead.
"I don't know if it's coincidence or not, but, since the TV's off, I won't say another word about it if you won't. And since the kids are at Mom and Dad's..." She snuggled closer against him, reaching this time for his lips.
Andrew Carter gave her that kiss and then reached a hand out to turn off the lamp on the table next to him.
"Ah! Just one more!" In his corniest voice imitating Mel Blanc, he added, "That's all, folks!"
The light went off as Janie giggled and poked him in the ribs.
"Uh uh! Maybe that's what you think!"
The End
Author's Note:
Thanks for reading. Any feedback you might provide will be greatly appreciated, too.
The Normandy Invasion on D-Day was a somber but much-hoped-for time since it marked the beginning of the end of the war in the west. There were over 10,000 Allied casualties on June 6, 1944, including 4,414 confirmed dead. The breakout from the Normandy area took over two months and cost many thousands more lives. I was initially very reluctant to do a humorous take on such a serious subject, but Hogan's Heroes, which was essentially a comedic parody of other prisoner of war movies of the time, did its own semi-humorous take with "D-Day at Stalag 13," where Hogan and company convince the Germans that Klink is the new chief of staff.
In truth, the Allies really did some wacky things to try to keep the Germans off guard in preparation for various invasions and attacks as the war progressed. The army of tents and rubber tanks (Operation Fortitude, the first item in Benbrite's report, before D-Day), the body washed up on the beach with the briefcase cuffed to his wrist (Operation Mincemeat, in preparation for the invasion of Sicily), and the Ghost Army (Operation Quicksilver, as the war progressed toward Germany) were just a few examples. In addition, the use of gliders and paratroopers and other communication misdirections on D-Day contributed greatly to the Germans' initial confusion, which allowed the Allies to establish a foothold in northern Europe that they never again surrendered.
A show named "You Are There" was hosted by CBS News anchor Walter Cronkite in the 1950s and then again in the early '70s. It used live-action recreations in a news format to tell about historic events. Since this was intended to be a parody, I took great liberties with this part, as well as tweaking Zenith TV, its Space Command remote control, and Campbell's Soups.
Written for the 75th anniversary of D-Day challenge as noted above, the idea was inspired by a discussion on the Forum XIIIc board about creatures in Hogan's Heroes episodes and fanfiction stories. One of the comments was that skunks would not be appropriate in a Hogan's Heroes story since, outside of zoos, there aren't any in Europe. From such comments, crazy ideas are sometimes born. Thanks are extended to konarciq and baja-king for their inspiration and encouragement, however unintentional it may have been. Any fault for this lunacy that resulted lies entirely with me.
A few final points:
There's a little Easter Egg in Chapter 2 related to another CBS show of the period. Hint: "And the rest."
In the story, Walther Benbrite said that skunks are only found in the Western Hemisphere. In the 1960s, that was true, but in the 1990s, the stinkbadgers of the far east (the Philippines, Malaysia, and Indonesia) were reclassified as members of the skunk family. I'm not sure what the poor stinkbadgers think about all of that.
The French word for skunk is absolutely NOT Le Pewinus. LeBeau may have assumed that Schultz wouldn't know that; perhaps that became the origin for Pepé's last name.
Whether Andrew's wife Janie is his old girlfriend Mary Jane (who dumped him in Episode 1.32, "Request Permission to Escape") is anyone's guess.
The idiom "to earn one's stripes" has to do with proving that one is deserving of a particular position or designation. It is believed to have originally come from military organizations where enlisted soldiers earned stripes on their sleeves as they were promoted in rank. In a comedic parody involving skunks, that low-hanging fruit was just too hard to pass up!
Finally, to the best of my knowledge, there was no American skunk program and such a program had nothing whatsoever to do with inspiring Stinky/Pepé. Of course, I don't know everything...
