The three snipers all bore knife wounds. "Hell," Hawkeye swore. "He got this one right under the shoulder blade."
"This one, too," BJ said. "The arm is useless."
They repaired the three snipers, stitching the wounds. "He hit perfectly," Hawkeye fumed.
"Howdy, boys, how are things?"
"He took out all three the same way," BJ said. "Knife under the right shoulder blade."
"Hit the nerve?"
"Close. He rendered the shoulder useless." BJ looked at Potter. "So what did Hogan say?"
"He simply said he's chosen Newkirk to be his aide, his adjunct. I did speak to General Hammel. He told me quite clearly that Major General Hogan is to be left alone and questions are not encouraged. Hogan's record is near spotless." Potter frowned. "He's something. No aides, no real bureaucracy. I find it hard to believe he's a General."
"And our reporter?" Hawkeye demanded.
"Is actually a reporter. Joined the London Sun Times in late 1945. He covers wars, battles, and foreign news."
"Colonel, what reporter can do this?!" Hawkeye finished stitching. "And take out Flagg?"
"All I can tell you is what I found out. And we should be glad he didn't kill them." Potter sighed.
"I'd like Newkirk to stay another day." BJ finished his patient. "That leg is swollen again."
"I'll ask General Hogan." Potter stepped out and the two surgeons exchanged looks.
Hawkeye stripped off his scrubs. "You all right?" BJ asked.
"Mad. Wondering. I'm glad he got the snipers but I'm angry he wounded them." Hawkeye pulled on his fatigues. "Yet, Potter's right. He could have cut their throats."
"You know, what if he's like Flagg?" BJ asked.
"CIA?"
"Not if he's British but maybe he's a spy."
"And why here?"
"Let's take a look at his stories." BJ stretched his arms.
Potter found General Hogan in the Mess Tent drinking coffee. "You dropped a lot of jaws today, General."
"I know. But Newkirk and I work well together."
"That was a long time ago."
"I know Peter, Colonel."
"Speaking of who, what is he?" Potter sipped his coffee. "Just between us, General, he's not just a reporter."
"He's working a case," Hogan quietly lied. "Just between us. Newkirk doesn't handle small cases. He's broke several large stories that have't always been flattering to the military, British or American. And this wasn't planned, Colonel. It just happened and I'm glad it did. HQ has been riding me about not having an aide and Newkirk can use a break."
"Glad it worked out."
"Dr. Hunnicutt would like Newkirk to stay another day. And maybe you can keep him off his feet."
"No problem."
----------------
Hawkeye felt a warm hand on his arm. "Come on, Hawk." BJ gently shook him.
"Beej?" Hawkeye looked up. BJ grinned at him and Hawkeye smiled back.
"Come on, breakfast."
"Yay, spam and powdered eggs."
"We'll see." BJ chuckled.
"You're in a good mood."
"Um hmm. Let's go."
The Mess Tent smelled actually good. "Real food?" Hawkeye asked.
"Compliments of Major General Hogan," Klinger said from the line. "A whole truckload of goodies came in. Just what did you two do?"
"Reunited two old friends."
The two sat next to Charles, Potter, and Klinger. "And this is what we deserve," Charles said.
"Speaking of deserve, Charles, why aren't you chit chatting with Newkirk? After all, he could put you in his paper."
Hawkeye chewed his ham.
"Really, Pierce, like I want to be in a gossip column." Charles eyed him.
"Newkirk writes big stories," BJ said. "I thought you'd be near him simply because he's English."
"He's Cockney, Hunnicutt. Hardly my class." Winchester ate.
"Sorry. Forgot the Winchesters only associated with the House of Lords," BJ said. He rolled his eyes at Hawkeye. Hawkeye grinned. When Hogan appeared, people applauded and Major Houlihan escorted him to the table.
"This was mighty nice of you, General," Potter said.
"It's just a small gesture. I wish I could do more. Some food, a few movies, a few items isn't much."
"It's more than we usually get." Hawkeye studied the General. "Where's your shadow?"
"Newkirk? Post Op, I believe."
"There's a miracle," BJ muttered.
"You think he's bad for you. You should try being his CO." Hogan smiled at Margaret as she handed him the syrup. "Thank you, Major."
"Probably like being your CO, Pierce," Potter said.
"It must have been very difficult," Margaret said. "In a POW camp, I mean."
"It was different."
"Where they all American and British?" Charles asked.
"No. Stalag 13 held French, American, Canadian, British, pretty much any and all Allied forces. Even a few Russians."
"Was that rare?" Klinger asked.
"The Germans and Soviets didn't like each other, son. From what I understand, the Nazis treated the Russians pretty bad," Potter explained.
"Fortunately our Kommandant was Luftwaffe, not Nazi. The Russians managed to survive." Hogan sipped his coffee.
"As did the rest of us."
"Do you still keep in touch?" Margaret asked.
"With my old command crew, sure." He grinned. "You met Newkirk."
"He was in your command crew? But he was a corporal," Potter said.
"So?" Hawkeye asked.
"He's wondering why I didn't have officers. I was the only officer in Stalag 13," Hogan explained.
"What?" Potter looked stunned.
"It was an enlisted men's camp. I was the only officer. So my command staff were all enlisted." Hogan shrugged.
"I didn't know the Nazis separated the enlisted from the officers," Winchester said.
"It was rare." Hogan smiled. "We made it work."
----------------