Chapter 8

"Why can't you get him back?" Rosa asked for the umpteenth time. "You are the commandant." She stood near the window and stared outside, her finger tracing an unseen line across the glass.

Klink noted that she had made a statement and not a question, yet he felt the full impact of her words. "He is safer there than he is here."

"But I just bought him out of a prison camp and now -"

"I may be a harsh commandant, but I was always fair. He is safe over there." With a great burden on his shoulders, Klink shuffled to his chair and let himself fall into it. When, it wasn't a matter of if, Hochstetter returned he would search the camp again. He didn't know if Hogan would help him again.

"I'm sorry," Rosa said and stepped up beside him. Rubbing his shoulder, she apologized again. "I shouldn't have come here. We'll leave as soon as possible."

He patted her hand and stilled her movement. It was a tempting offer. If she was gone so would be his worry but Klink wanted to do better. "I wish I could help you. If I was a general I could -" Klink didn't know what he could do as a general, but he was sure that he could do something.

"This is helping." Her fingers dug into his shoulder with far more strength than he had expected from the hand of a woman. "I have lost hope for big help," she said and her warm hand left his shoulder. She still walked like a queen and hadn't lost any of her poise. Klink watched her walking back to the window. "I don't even know what real help would look like."

Klink looked away. He didn't need to follow her gaze to know it was directed at her son.

"But every little hand helps," she continued. "Everyone who offers a place to hide, some food to eat or who just doesn't report us," she tilted her head until their eyes met, "is helping. You are helping by not waiting until you know something to do."

He was the first to look away. He wanted to help more. But whenever he started to think about what he could do he could only think about what would happen to him if he was caught. He shivered. He wasn't really cold but the fear made him cold.


November 12, 1944

Hogan glanced down on the blueprints and compiled a list of necessary materials in his head.

"London was fast," LeBeau said and slipped back into his uniform. The dark days of November with their late sunrise gave them plenty of time to get out and receive packages from London.

"They want the German major. Badly," Kinch said and closed the trap door behind him. With fast strikes he went to the coffee and took a cup. "Whatever we need to accomplish this is proceeded with uttermost urgency." He shot Hogan a quick glare. Nothing else was needed as Hogan already knew that they wanted to know more about the hint about the Ardennes. He didn't doubt that Major von Hofer was willing to tell them everything he knew. But Hogan didn't know how to ask about things von Hofer knew but didn't realize that he knew. He was more accustomed to make people spill secrets.

A loud knock against the side of the barracks signaled the arrival of unwanted guests, and they hurried to hide their current activities. By the time Hogan had fully turned around to face the door, Newkirk had already furled the blueprint.

Carter and the young man, Kurt Gold, came in. Hogan raised an eyebrow but Carter just shrugged. "Wilson said that walking around would help."

Most men in the camp pitied the young German but Carter went out of his way to actually help him by spending time with him. Hogan allowed it as it kept Gold busy and Carter near a source of information.

London had taken the new information about the underground facility with it usual aplomb and a sigh. They noted it for further investigation but started the next sentence with an inquiry about when they could expect von Hofer in London. They were running out of patience.

Gold nodded to Carter. "Oh, and he wants to apologize and say thank you," Carter stumbled on his words, "us - he wants to thank us for our help."

Having everything said translated by Carter made a conversation tiresome and complicated and so Hogan just nodded to show his acceptance.

Hogan turned around and signaled Newkirk to unroll the blueprint again. London had been clever enough to deliver it hidden in a box of a model aircraft. He could lose it to Sergeant Schultz if he repeated his inspection but there wouldn't be any other consequences. Together they studied the blueprint while their guest warmed his hands near the shove.

"Even if we get by some harebrained scheme all the necessary materials," Newkirk said, "we won't get an engine."

Hogan bit his lips. There were days he could use a little more enthusiasm from his men. "Why so demotivated? We should start with whatever we'll get." Their whole operation had started with a vision and hard work, and they had been really successful so far. It wasn't their time to fail yet.

"Are you building a plane?" Gold leaned forward to glance at the blueprint.

Hogan straightened while Carter translated as fast as possible. "Yes."

"Why don't you build a glider? It's easier and you won't need an engine, so it's almost silent."

The colonel didn't know whether the young German talked about a model aircraft or a real one. The former shouldn't ever have an engine the latter would mean that he was willing to help the self-claimed enemy. He gave him a questioning glare. "A glider?"

"Yes," he nodded and a small smile gave his sunken face a more normal appearance. "A sail-plane glider doesn't need an engine."

Hogan glanced to his men. But he found his own question reflected on their faces.

"Did you ever read the Treaty of Versailles?" Gold continued. "It forbade Germany to have any planes with engines. But my father is a pilot - you can take away his plane but not his love for flying or his ability to pilot a plane. They just built themselves planes that you could fly without an engine."

Fighting hard to keep the superior grin from his face, Hogan waited until Carter had translated everything. The air vibrated with new energy.

"How far can you fly with such a glider?" If it was far enough, then maybe they could have London sending a plane to fetch von Hofer from far outside of the camp.

"With the right weather conditions," the young man made a face as he thought about his answer, "several hundreds kilometers."

"You're kidding!" Newkirk declared before Carter had finished his translation but Gold didn't seem to notice.

Instead, a real smile blossomed on his face. "No, I still remember the first time my father has flown so far. He even took me with him once."

Hogan shared a look with Kinch. It was the first time that the Treaty of Versailles brought them something good. "Can you fly a glider?" He asked full of hope.

"Sure, my father has taught me."

Snapping his fingers, Hogan mouthed to Kinch an order. But his radio man had already pulled out his scratchpad and written down his newest list of inquiries. He held it out for Hogan to read: "London - weather reports - the nearest front line - safe way to cross it."

"Can you build one?" Newkirk asked in the meantime while Hogan nodded his agreement for Kinch's plan.

"No," Gold shock his head and destroyed therefore the jubilant mood. "My father and his friends, they had constructed and build them. I only know that you can't just nail some wood together, not if you want to fly further than three meters."

Thinking it over for a moment, Hogan dared to ask the most important question. "Assuming we build one, would you fly it?"

The young German snorted. "I'm not going to fly away. I'm going to stay with my mother, we need to stick together. Besides," he added after Carter had translated everything so far, "you won't get it off the ground without the right equipment."

Leaving destroyed hope behind, Gold and Carter shuffled off again.

"And now what?" LeBeau asked.

Hogan rubbed at his chin. He wasn't deterred, not by a long shot. "Now, I finally know where we'll get a plane from."


November 13, 1944

Hogan sneaked through the darkness. It was risky to go out while Hochstetter could return any moment but some conversation Hogan had to do himself. He hurried through the forest. The only source of light was the moon enlightening the dark environment. The air smelled damp and moldy. He had learned that this was normal for these parts of the world that had a wet and gray autumn.

On the road to Hammelburg his contact was already waiting for him. Looking right and left, he jumped into the veterinarian's car. Oscar Schnitzer wasn't a man of many words, and so he nodded his greeting. He drove as fast as he dared in the darkness.

Just short of a sharp corner, he turned left into an almost overgrown trail. The car shock as they drove across the uneven ground. Then Schnitzer cut the lights and drove even further into the darkness.

Hogan pressed himself into the seat trying not to hit his head or any other vital body part. It was one of the reason he had become a pilot and not co-pilot - he preferred to drive himself.

Finally, Schnitzer stopped and killed the engine. In the silence Hogan could hear his own heartbeat.

"What is so important that we need to talk in person?" Schnitzer whispered. "What couldn't wait until the next time we would see each other?"

Peering into the black of the night, Hogan couldn't make out any threat that warranted to keep quiet, and yet he also lowered his voice. "Do you know where we could get a two-seat glider?"

He felt the man beside him pausing. The seat cracked a little as he shifted. "There are several ones in some bay yarns around here, a lot of the former pilots continued to fly and it became a hobby."

Hogan grinned even if nobody could see it. "Great, we need one."

"Colonel Hogan, I know that you are a pilot and have pilots at your disposal but flying a glider isn't -" Schnitzer apparently felt comfortable enough to argue.

"I have a seasoned pilot," Hogan explained. "What I need is a glider and a way to get it off the ground."

Schnitzer drummed on the steering wheel with his fingers. The even rhythm was for a long moment the only sound until finally the wildlife took up its own orchestra again.

Hogan waited. Not patiently but he needed to wait.

"Maybe Heinrich can help. He had been working at an improvised airstrip back then before the war. He could know where we could get some bungees."

"Bungees?"

"Elastic ropes to launch a glider," Schnitzer explained. "Are you sure you have a pilot?"

"Yes," Hogan retorted. The young man didn't know it yet, but he was their pilot.

"Do you need it -" Schnitzer hesitated. "Do you need it to get Major von Hofer to London?"

Hogan shouldn't be surprised that their veterinarian knew about the man but it was unwelcome news nonetheless. "Yes."

"You need to hurry up and get him out. The rumors won't be ignored by the gestapo for long."

No pressure, Hogan sighed. "I'm working on it," he said. "That's the reason we need as fast as possible a glider."

"We could take it apart and send it to your stalag as delivery of firewood for the coming winter. That's the fasted way as we could work in broad daylight and didn't need to smuggle it down into your tunnels. But you need to take it before it is actually burnt."

Hogan's eyes had gradually become adjusted to the darkness. He could just make out Schnitzer silhouette and how he peered through the windshield. "I'll make sure that we'll take it."

Schnitzer nodded. "Who would have thought that the Treaty of Versailles would be good for something."

"Except being the treaty that ended the last war, why does every German talk about it?" Hogan asked, exaggerated. After days of always hearing about it, Hogan was curious.

"It blames us for starting the war as if we were the only ones," Schnitzer said while he tilted his head slightly towards Hogan. "Hadn't Great Britain armed itself and hadn't Russia started with the mobilization?"

"Germany had started and lost the war." Hogan shrugged. "Period." He had a better knowledge about the tactics and the battles then the big political picture. "You know the saying that the winner writes the history. I guess the Treaty of Versailles reflects that piece of truth."

"I know, Colonel Hogan, I know because Hitler is trying to do exactly this - writing the history anew by winning this war." Schnitzer snorted. "In Germany we call it a Diktat and not a Treaty because it was either sign it or get invaded. Nobody thought the Treaty was just or fair. Even our chancellor resigned rather than signing it. "

"And yet you're here, in the darkness and helping us, the enemy," Hogan said.

"I don't help the enemy." Schnitzer returned his gaze to the windshield. "I help my people. Nobody in Germany believes that the Treaty of Versailles was fair, but we differed in our opinions how to deal with that." He paused as if he needed to contemplate what he wanted to tell Hogan.

Hogan knew that he was needed back in camp, but he also had learned the hard way the last few days that the past had a lot of influence on the future if you weren't careful. So, he waited.

"We, the social democrats, we believed that with time we would be able to change the treaty, add new articles and lessen the sum of the reparations that crippled our economy. And we achieved a lot in the years of the Weimar Repulic. Great Britain and France, they had their own aims, but we were able to act brotherly trying to create a Europa that would never go to war again.

"But there was always the other side - the one who didn't want to change the treaty but to nullify it. The side who wanted all or nothing. They didn't believe in win-win where everybody would get something and give something - they wanted all, and they needed desperately that everybody else was losing. In their mind there was either win-lose for them or lose-lose." Schnitzer stopped talking. In the pale moonlight, Hogan could see the white of his eyes, staring into the darkness. One darkness was the night in Hammelburg, but the other darkness was the evil surrounding his people.

"Why didn't you stop them? Back then 1933 before we were involved? You could have prevented it. All of this." Hogan would have never needed to go to war. The men he had seen killed, dying and suffering - none of this had had to happen if they had just stopped Hitler and his men.

"We tried. The social democrats tried. We really did. We voted against Hitler and as a thank-you, the SS and SA were standing with their machine guns and goon squads in front of our offices and arrested everybody. You either were sent to jail or agreed to stop being politically active. So, we went to the underground." Schnitzer sighed.

Hogan was silent, still fighting the urge to accuse him of failing. Germany had sent the whole world into a war just because they didn't want to face that they had lost the last one.

Schnitzer seemed to guess his thoughts though. Without further words, he started his truck and drove the same way back.

As they reached the road near the camp, Schnitzer stopped again to let Hogan out. With his hand on the car door, Hogan hesitated for a moment. "I don't know if Germany is solely to blame for the last war," he said, "but this war - I know is solely Germany's fault. Nobody else wanted it."

Schnitzer stared straight ahead. "I know," he whispered. Then he looked over. "I'll get you the sail-plane. Just be sure to intercept the delivery."

Hogan nodded and closed the door. He disappeared into the black night, back to his POW camp. Fighting a war that should never have been started.