Happy birthday to me. And here's a present for you: a new chapter!
Christmas Eve 1943
Underneath the toughest POW camp in all of Germany lay a network of tunnels so vast and complex that it would stagger the imagination. The tunnels housed everything an underground organization needed: a machine shop that made souvenir lighters, a chemical lab for creating bombs, a forgery unit that churned out German money by the baleful, and a radio room that provided constant contact with the outside world as far away as London.
All were silent. Even the radio was off. But Sergeant James Ivan Kinchloe sat next to it anyway. Waiting.
Always waiting.
Because even though the machines and the printing press were all asleep, the sabotage unit never really stopped working. And right now, there were five men outside the wire. Until they returned, Kinch would be waiting right there.
Kinch eased back in his chair and propped his feet up on his desk. He debated the merits of getting some shut eye, but figured it was a lost cause. Until everyone was back safe and sound, he knew it was no use. Not only would worry rob him of a decent rest, but it wouldn't surprise him if everyone arrived at different times, just far enough apart for him to flirt with sleep before being awaken again.
A noise somewhere down one of the passages seemed to prove his point. Kinch let his feet fall to the floor and he sat up straight. He strained his ears to try a hear who it was. Or rather, what it was. It sounded like clacking. Or maybe a barking cough. Or-
Grabbing a revolver, Kinch jumped to his feet as the noise got closer. He lowered it when he saw LeBeau appear from the darkness. Slung over his shoulder was a gunny sack with bird feet poking out the end.
"Hush, hush my little ones," LeBeau chided as he tugged at the bag. This just made the birds angry and they squawked louder.
"LeBeau, what is that?" Kinch asked as he lowered his gun and set it on the table.
"Pheasants!" LeBeau replied happily. "For Christmas dinner tomorrow!"
"Pheasants?" Kinch repeated. "Live pheasants?" It was a dumb question to ask. They were obviously alive. The better question would have been how LeBeau had managed to get them back to camp and into the tunnels without bringing every patrol and guard down on him.
"Of course!" LeBeau cried somewhat indignantly. "I will kill them tomorrow so they will be the most fresh they can be!"
"And just where are you planning on keeping them?"
LeBeau grinned. "Do not worry. I have been planning this for weeks. I have the most perfect spot." And with that, LeBeau disappeared down another passageway. Kinch shook his head with a grin. A couple of pheasants for Christmas dinner. Kinch had no idea where and how LeBeau had procured them, but he knew it hadn't been as simple as requesting them from London.
A few minutes later, LeBeau was back in the radio room, dusting off his hands. "C'est bon. We will have a feast tomorrow!" He checked his watch. "Are the others back yet?"
Kinch shook his head. "Not yet."
LeBeau looked down the tunnel, them up the ladder to the barracks above. "Do you want me to wait with you?"
"Nah, it's late," Kinch replied. "You go hit the hay. I'll wait up."
"All right then," LeBeau said with a nod. "Merci, Kinch."
"C'est rien. Get going, huh."
"Oui. I will go." And with that, LeBeau clambered up the ladder and out of sight.
Kinch settled back in his chair. He could faintly hear the pheasants and he wondered what they might taste like.
His thoughts drifted to other things and after a while, Kinch was skimming the edge of sleep when another arrival pulled him back to consciousness. Just as he thought- no rest for him until they were all back.
Kinch leaned forward in his chair, waiting to see who it was. A giddy whoop told him it must be Carter and Newkirk, back from blowing up a bridge. Sure enough, the two rounded the corner a moment later.
"Hey Kinch!" Carter greeted brightly. "We're back. And boy, did you miss out on a great explosion!"
Kinch hid a grimace. He didn't need to be reminded that, yet again, he had missed out on something big. It was his lot in life- or at least in the operation. Sure he got to go on some missions outside the wire, but they were few and far between. But when it came down to it, his place was in the background, holding down the fort.
"Did everything go okay?" Kinch asked, shaking off the disgruntled thoughts.
"Piece of pie," Carter assured him.
"Had a bit of trouble getting back but nothing we couldn't handle," Newkirk amended, shooting a pointed look at Carter.
"Oh? What kind of trouble?" Kinch asked.
"Later," Newkirk said dismissively. "Any trouble here after the explosion?"
Kinch frowned. Later usually meant never. He had lost count of the number of times the guys had told him they would explain later, only to forget. As integral as he seemed to be to the operation, Kinch didn't know half of what went on- or at least, he didn't know half the details of what actually happened outside the wire.
"Kinch?" Carter asked when Kinch remained silent.
"Oh, um, no. We barely heard it. It was too far away to stir up trouble here."
"Well that's a bit of luck," Newkirk said flatly. He checked his watch. "Cor, it's late. Is everyone else back yet?"
"Still waiting on the Colonel and Olsen," Kinch replied.
"Do you want us to wait with you? Keep you company?" Carter asked as he sat on the corner of Kinch's desk.
"No, that's okay. You guys head up and get some sleep."
"You sure?" Carter asked.
"The man already said no," Newkirk said. He slapped Carter's knee then jerked his thumb towards the ladder. "Let's go, mate. Night Kinch."
"Good night," Kinch said as Newkirk and Carter made their way up the ladder.
With a sigh, Kinch retired back to his chair. Three down, two to go. He tried not to let Carter's comments bug him. After all, the other Sergeant hadn't meant any harm. But it was small, seemingly inconsequential statements like that that really made Kinch question his place on the team. If he left tomorrow, the operation would continue on unaffected. Would anyone even notice he was gone?
Kinch mulled over his gloomy thoughts until he picked up the sounds of another set of footsteps coming down the tunnel. Kinch couldn't quite tell who they belonged to, but with a fifty-fifty chance, he guessed Olsen.
Instead Colonel Hogan soon came into view. The Colonel looked worried. No, that wasn't quite right. He looked perplexed, Kinch decided. Unsettled. Whatever it was, something was on the Colonels mind.
"Hi Colonel," Kinch greeted. "Everything all right?"
"What? Oh, yeah. Fine, Kinch, fine." Hogan said absently, but it was clear to Kinch that he was simply brushing off the question.
"You sure?"
"Yeah I just-" Hogan cut himself off with a huff and plastered a grin on his face. "I'm okay, Kinch. Just need some sleep to clear my head."
"Did you get what you needed from the underground?" Kinch pressed.
Hogan produced a roll of film from his pocket and tossed it to Kinch who easily caught it. "We'll develop it tomorrow. It's too late tonight."
Kinch nodded and set the film down. "You sure you're all right, Colonel?"
"Fine, fine. Everyone in for the night?"
"All except Olsen," Kinch reported.
Hogan glanced at his watch. "You think he's okay?" he asked, suddenly worried. "There was a bit of a raid on Hammelburg this afternoon, maybe he-"
"No, he sent a message. He's okay, just going to be later than expected," Kinch assured his commanding officer.
"Hmmm. All right, let's get up top."
"If it's all the same to you, Colonel, I think I'll wait up for him," Kinch replied. It was his job, after all, to wait. To wait until everyone was home safe and sound. To wait just in case they took too long and he had to organize a search party.
Hogan looked down the tunnel, the back at his watch. "I'll wait with you."
"Thanks, Colonel. But I think I'll just go develop the film now. Besides, there's no sense in both of us staying up."
Hogan tilted his head from side to side, then shrugged. "Fine. But don't wait too long. Olsen's a big boy. If he doesn't come back tonight, he'll have a reason."
"Sure. Good night, Colonel."
"Night, Kinch."
After Hogan left, Kinch grabbed the film and went to process it. He got back just in time to find Olsen trudging into the radio room. He looked tired and worn and more than a little dirty.
"Olsen? You all right?"
Olsen let out a little sigh. "Fine. Just spent the night digging out my neighbours." He gave Kinch a weak smile. "Not much of a merry Christmas in Hammelburg tonight. So," he pressed on before Kinch could get a word in, "is everyone else in the for night?"
"Yeah. The Colonel just got back an hour or so ago. You're the last one."
Olsen regarded him curiously. "Waiting up for me?"
Kinch couldn't help but sigh. "That's my job. LeBeau snags pheasants, Carter and Newkirk blow up bridges, the Colonel meets with the underground, and I wait." He regretted the bitterness in his voice; this wasn't really something he wanted to discuss with Olsen. Or anyone for that matter. Kinch looked away from Olsen's gaze. "Never mind."
But Olsen still had him fixed with a thoughtful look. "You know, sometimes it takes someone on the outside looking in to see the problem."
"I know the problem," Kinch said flatly as he gestured to himself. "I can't exactly pass for German. Hell, I can't even pass for a Dane."
Olsen half-grinned. "Well, don't beat yourself up over that- not even the Colonel could pull off a convincing Dane." Olsen's expression became serious again. "Look I know how you feel. Left out of the action. Being part of the group, but not quite."
"You're in on the action, Olsen," Kinch said tersely. In fact, Olsen was right in the thick of it- far more than any of them. Sure the Colonel and the others put their lives on the line nearly every day, but Olsen lived on the outside- he was in danger every minute.
"Not really. You may not believe this, but life outside is pretty boring." Kinch didn't quite believe him. "And I don't get to spend much time with, well, anyone. Except Max. And let me tell you, he's not great company. He's not even good company."
Now that Kinch believed. "I guess that must get lonely," Kinch said. Maybe Olsen did know how he felt.
"Tell me something: how many of the guys offered to stay down here with you?" Olsen asked. Before Kinch could answer, he continued. "And how many times did you turn them down?" Olsen's questions, which weren't really questions, felt like a slap, and Kinch ducked his head. "If you're feeling lonely, Kinch, maybe it's because you want to be lonely."
Kinch was about to reply, but stopped short. Was that true? And if it was, why? Kinch wasn't a very social man, but be didn't like being alone. But it was true- he had declined company tonight, while at the same time wishing he was part of the group.
"Maybe it's none of my business Kinch, but it's hard to feel a part of things when you push people away." Olsen paused, then knocked on Kinch's desk. "Well, it's late, or early, and I hear Santa only comes when all the good little boys and girls are asleep." He checked his watch. "Too late to bring down my replacement. What's his name? Walldecker? Anyway do me a favor and send him down before roll call. I gotta hit the sack."
Kinch wasn't sure if Olsen's quick getaway was because he was uncomfortable, or he simply wanted Kinch to stew in his thoughts. Either way, the outside man didn't look like he was going to stick around.
"Night, Kinch. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Olsen," he replied. Olsen nodded and then ducked down a side tunnel to one of the private rooms.
All alone, Kinch stood next to his desk, pondering what Olsen had said. His role in the operation was a passive one and that grated on him. But if he wasn't careful, bitterness would stop his participation altogether. And it wasn't like it was anyone's fault, so there was no need to push them away. Saboteurs or not, they were all stuck together at Stalag 13, and that was not something anyone should go through alone.
So maybe next time, Kinch would welcome the company. It wouldn't change the big things. He'd still be left behind on missions, he'd still be tasked with holding down the fort, but maybe if he reached out a little more, he wouldn't feel left out. These were good men he worked with, and it couldn't hurt to let them into his life a little.
"All right. Time to join the team." Kinch nodded to himself, then climbed up to the barracks. Everyone was asleep when he got there. "Tomorrow," he amended in a whisper as he crawled into bed. Though roll call was only a few hours away, Kinch couldn't get to sleep, and he lay awake for quite some time, thinking- alone once again with his thoughts.
