Author's note: first of all a heartfelt 'danke schön' to Tzuzuku for correcting my half forgotten high school German, and often suggesting much more colourful phrases than the ones I could produce myself. I'm also most grateful to her for teaching me that when Germans bawl out someone who is not a close friend or relative, they do so using the polite Sie-form (!) – unfathomable for my Dutch lingual heritage, but there it is!
Anyway, if you still spot any errors in my German here and in later chapters, it's likely to be my own fault and not hers, since I didn't bother to give her the most elementary phrases to check...
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The four men amused themselves for quite a while covertly observing the goings-on outside.
But it was necessary to stay true to form – after all, there was always the possibility that they would find some or other lost key and came to ask the Führer if perhaps it was his. So Carter got to sleep in state in Klink's bed, and Addison, Schwarz and Kruse took up a guardpost each by the three exits of the apartment.
The next morning, Kruse found a nervous Kommandant Klink approaching him on the porch.
"Yes, Kommandant?"
Klink saluted and clicked his heels. "Ehm... good morning, Herr Major, und Heil Hitler."
Major Speidel silently returned the greeting.
"I'm um... I'm sorry to tell you that my men have not yet been able to find the Führer's key. But now that we have the benefit of daylight, I'm sure we'll have no trouble locating it. No trouble at all."
"Good. Because the Führer doesn't like to be kept waiting."
"No. Of course not." Klink saluted again. "And may I suggest to employ the prisoners in the search as well? That would be nearly a thousand extra pairs of eyes looking, and I'm sure..."
"Was? Are you out of your mind?" Speidel shook his fist at him. "The prisoners are confined to barracks until that key is found! Understood? We cannot risk it falling into enemy hands!"
"Of course, Herr Major." Another salute. "As you wish, Herr Major." And with that, Klink backed off to join the search parties again, leaving Kruse to stifle his all too visible grin.
Schultz was just taking a breather in the sentry box by the main gate when Corporal Langenscheidt returned to report for duty after his two days' leave.
"What's going on?" the young guard inquired with an anxious glance at his colleagues all going on all fours around the compound.
Schultz let out a pitiful moan. "I know nothing. Nothing!"
Langenscheidt tilted his head. "Colonel Hogan up to his tricks again?"
"Nein. Nicht Colonel Hogan this time." Schultz peeked out of the sentry box to see where the Kommandant was. "Much worse: it's the Führer himself. He came here yesterday evening and... It really is the Führer!" he continued upon seeing Langenscheidt's incredulous face. "I've seen him with my own eyes!"
"Really?" Langenscheidt sounded far from convinced.
"Yes, really! But oh, when he took a walk around the camp yesterday after dinner... Can you imagine he lost his house-key! So now the Kommandant has all the guards combing out the compound and the mess hall and the..." Another moan. "I'm getting too old for this..."
Langenscheidt had already come to his own opinion about the situation, but – as was by far the safest in Nazi Germany – decided to keep it to himself.
"Langenscheidt!"
Langenscheidt jumped, and there was the Kommandant.
"Where have you been?"
Langenscheidt came to a trembling attention. "I... I was out on a t... two day p... pass, Kommandant."
"Oh! Yes, that's right. Schultz, have you acquainted the corporal with the situation?"
Schultz sighed. "Jawohl, Herr Kommandant."
"Good. Now, Langenscheidt, since you're the only one who hasn't been crawling around in the mud all night, you're the only one presentable enough to go and bring the Führer and his men their breakfast."
Langenscheidt positively quavered. "Me, Herr Kommandant?"
"Yes. So go to the mess hall right away, and make sure that you salute and bow and click your heels together and everything when you're in the presence of our esteemed leader!"
"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant." Langenscheidt hurried off, hearing the Kommandant behind him scold Schultz back on his hands and knees.
Poor Schultz.
But under his anxious and uncertain façade, his brain was working overtime.
Most of all, he was convinced that this was just another one of Colonel Hogan's outrageous schemes. The Führer had visited the camp once before – if it really had been him. At the time, he – Langenscheidt – had been in Paris on another assignment, so he had missed the entire caper. Still, the stories he'd heard smacked too much of Papa Bear's infamous pranks for him to believe it truly having been Hitler. So why should it be any different this time? Surely the bloody Führer had no interest in a lowly POW-camp?
Him being sent to serve their breakfast was therefore only fortunate. He knew all too well that a charade that worked well by evening did not always hold up by daylight. And anyway, who better to see through their disguises than the Master of Disguises himself?
And if by any chance it was Adolf Hitler himself...
Fifteen minutes later he rolled a heavily loaded serving trolley towards the Kommandant's quarters.
"Halt," the major guarding the door ordered. He stepped down off the porch and lifted up every lid on the trays. "In Ordnung." He glanced at Langenscheidt and pointed at his belt. "Legen Sie das ab. No one goes into the Führer's quarters carrying weapons of any kind."
Langenscheidt let out an inaudible sigh. So much for his advantage this time if indeed it was the Führer. The overcautious security sure seemed to point in that direction.
So he took off his belt and laid it in a corner on the veranda. The major gave him a thorough body-search as well, removing even his pocket-knife. "In Ordnung. Sie können hinein gehen." He even helped to lift the heavy trolley onto the porch, and held the door for him.
Langenscheidt rolled the trolley into the Kommandant's living-room, and found the perfect Führer glowering down at him.
"Guten Morgen, mein Führer." A bow, his boots clicking, and he loathed his own obsequiousness towards this monster. At least that other time he... "Haben Sie gut geschlafen?"
"Ja. Danke."
The monster turned and started pacing the room while his visitor set the table in silence. At the same time, Langenscheidt never let the supposed Führer out of his sight – if only from the corner of his eye.
At first sight he had already established that it definitely was not Colonel Hogan himself. And the guy sure looked and acted the part convincingly enough to be easily accepted as that blasted Führer.
But was it really, truly him?
There was but one way to find out: one way or another, he'd have to draw the guy into some sort of conversation. He knew by experience that Colonel Hogan's men were fluent enough in the German language when it came to known or prepared phrases. But German is a difficult language for people who haven't learned to deal with case endings the natural way – from childhood. He knew Colonel Hogan and Sergeant Kinchloe had mastered it perfectly indeed. But the other three? It was certainly worth a try.
"Es wird ein schöner Tag heute," he remarked casually as he laid out the cutlery.
The monster merely glared at him without pausing his pacing.
"Ich habe selbst auch einige Jahre in Berlin gewohnt. Gefällt Ihnen die Stadt? Oder ziehen Sie die Ländlichkeit Berchtesgadens vor?"
No reaction at all, and Langenscheidt was beginning to lean towards the conclusion that one of Colonel Hogan's men indeed made for a very believable Hitler impersonator.
"Haben Sie keine Sorge, mein Führer. Nun, da wir Tageslicht haben, werden wir Ihren Schlüssel schon bald finden."
The monster turned on him in a flash and shrieked in his face, "Du blöder Idiot! Halt's Maul!"
Poor Langenscheidt all but staggered back, and spittle was flying everywhere as an absolutely furious Führer continued, "Das einzige, was Sie hier machen sollen, ist, den Tisch zu decken! Also machen Sie hin, und lassen Sie mich in Ruhe meine Pläne schmieden!"
His military training kicking in, Langenscheidt saluted automatically and stammered, "J... jawohl, mein Führer."
And as he quickly finished setting the table, his breathing went faster and faster. No doubt about it – it was him! Seen up close, there was not the tiniest trace of theatrical make-up, and that outburst just now was complicated enough to trip someone with only mediocre skills in the German language. Even the slight southern accent was in place! So this wasn't some scheme of Colonel Hogan's for a change – this was the real Hitler!
Oh, the possibilities...
He straightened up to attention as he finished. "Guten Appetit, mein Führer. Heil Hitler!"
The evil monster practically froze him out, and Langenscheidt quickly made for the door. He collected his belt and his pocket-knife on the veranda, saluted the major there, and went in search of Schultz to find out whether or not he was supposed to join in the search for Hitler's key.
His eyes darted to barracks 2 for a moment. Surely Colonel Hogan was aware of whom Klink's guest was? He'd love to have a chat with him; he was sure that between the two of them, they would be able to rid this world of the worst vermin since... probably since the beginning of mankind. It would even be worth giving up his precious incognito – well, at least to Papa Bear then – if there was even half a chance of finally eliminating that Hitler monster.
But it was obvious that the prisoners had been confined to barracks. And with all the guards crawling around the compound, chances of him entering or even contacting barracks 2 unnoticed were zero.
And (unfortunately in this case) to Colonel Hogan and his men, Corporal Karl Langenscheidt was but one of the many hapless guards to run circles around...
Inside Klink's quarters, Schwarz peered around the door to the kitchen. Just in time to see Carter wipe his brow.
"Phew... That was close!"
Schwarz grinned. "But you did well. Your German was absolutely perfect – to the umlaut!"
Carter shook his head. "You know, sometimes I wonder at myself. The way I slip into all these nasty Kraut characters... And so easily! I think it's scary, don't you think?" He hesitated. "Do you think I might be schizophrenic or something?"
"Nah." Schwarz shook his head. "If that's all it takes to be schizophrenic, then every professional actor must suffer from a severe case of multiple personality disorder." He winked. "But you sure got Langenscheidt off your back with it."
Carter grimaced. "I do feel a little bad about it though. He really is one of the nicest guards around. I'm sure he just wanted to be friendly."
The choice he had before him sure wasn't easy. Should he kidnap the evil devil and deliver him to justice – or just plain shoot him?
While half-heartedly rooting through the mud of the compound in search of a key he had no intention of finding, Langenscheidt's mind was awhirl with possibilities. Would it be possible to find a way to outright kill the guy? It was not his usual style, but then, Hitler was not your usual enemy either.
Still, with the way they searched anyone who entered Hitler's quarters, bringing in a weapon was close to impossible. And with these three adjutants he had brought, a paranoid like Hitler was sure to use one of them for a food-taster, so that eliminated the option of poisoning him as well.
But then again, was killing the horrid monster really preferable? After all, what kind of a punishment was that – he wouldn't even be aware of it himself. No – perhaps he should aim for kidnapping him and shipping him off to England. Where he could be locked up in a nasty prison for the rest of his life. Or better still: in a madhouse. If he didn't get capital punishment after a long dreary trial after all.
Getting Hitler to England however was the easy part. The Underground had a perfect escape route, and with one call to London, Colonel Hogan could organize a submarine to pick him up.
No. The tricky part was how to kidnap the bloody Führer without having the entire Gestapo, SS, SD, Abwehr and whatever else on his back when transporting him to the coast...
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Author's note:
In case Langenscheidt has you a little puzzled here, allow me to let you in on one of the biggest secrets of ww2.
Are you alone? Really? No one looking over your shoulder?
Good.
Now get out your dvd's of Hogan's Heroes – more specifically, season 6, disc 3, and watch the episode That's No Lady, That's My Spy. And pay special attention to the Underground leader Hogan and his men meet in the opening scene: Oskar Danzig, the Master of Disguises and Germany's number 1 female impersonator. Do you recognize him by any chance? No?
Then continue to the ending credits, and check the name of the actor portraying him.
! ! !
Ever seen or heard that name before? Exactly!
Now don't tell anyone, but here on ffnet, there is a series of loosely connected stories exploring the adventures of this intriguing double character: The Corporal Chronicles. So if you'd like to know more about this guy, just find a moment (better make that a few hours) to acquaint yourself with stories like Chameleon Fever, No Silent Night + The Mystery of the Love-Struck Corporal, Robin Hood's Christmas Party and the extensive flashback of chapters 4 to 8 in The Pied Piper of Hamelburg.
But whatever you do, don't breathe a word to anyone about what you've just learned! Our friend is very particular about not tainting his real identity with the not always so respectable past of his alternate ego – his family would be absolutely mortified if they were ever to find out! Not to mention the fact that someone like major Hochstetter would pick him up in the blink of an eye if he were ever to become aware of Danzig's true identity...
No. The only people Danzig trusts with his secret are his oldest friend from childhood, his bank manager in Switzerland, and his girl-friend Little Red Ridinghood.
Can he rely on you, too, to keep your mouth shut – even in front of the Gestapo?