Christmas Day 1943
The Kantine/Mess Hall – 0656 Hours

I, Nikola Anna Michalovich, am alive. I have seen the first sunrise at Stalag 13 since I was sent away. I am again embraced with love that is now widely known, a simple danger still. Rob is alive and still the commanding officer of the prisoners here, I am back to where I am suppose to be and Stalag 13 is back in the command of Colonel Klink. It is all that matters now, I think, and for all the years I live, I will never forget this strange journey and its end result. To be alone to write this all out, I have hidden here in the camp's kitchens/mess hall to conceal myself from the men just for a little while. I smell the revolting scents of food for Christmas dinner move through this hallway. The mess hall is empty and I know that nobody will find me here for a while for the aroma here is almost unbearable to them (I could hardly care less, for my taste and smell have not come back yet). It'll work for a while because I can bear it. Thinking back to the past few days, it is welcoming and comparably speaking, it is much better.

I don't know where to begin or how I should start about my very short misadventure. Rob had explained everything else to me, the other details in others' travels and troubles, earlier this morning when I awoke at 0415 for the early Christmas fallout Klink had demanded. His details, written through my hand obviously, about the story are included here. So, in short, I had better start from the time I was led away by a smiling Major Hochstetter, who had gleefully said his next favorite order, sent to him from a frightened Burkhalter, the Kraut General I will never forgive for as long as I live.

~00~

LeBeau, Kinch, Carter and Newkirk had gathered in the center table of the barracks and were silent for some time before speaking to the other prisoners, staring into space and not daring to talk about what had just happened. The events were just as I said was going to happen. Both of the Colonels were gone and the order, on both sides, had been to gather the men (possibly help Colonel Hogan get away as the latter asked) and escape to England and then home.

The men around them have been woken up from the commotion, something they didn't exactly expect (they assumed there was going to be a general around, but nothing more), and were alert and waiting for their orders from me and Rob, the one that each colonel gave to them, something they've all waited for in such a long time. But the four didn't speak, none of them did. Both of the Colonels are goners, and they could be next, as they saw. Should they escape now or wait for a better time to go? It could all be a total misunderstanding, after all. Others who stay behind could remain where they are, if it is so, and the escapees could ruin the operation for them. So, what were the orders?

One of the men, Sergeant Tillman, broke their silence. "What are the orders from our gorgeous and most lovely Colonel M.?" he asked, acting cool and macho as he usually does, as he jumped down from his top bunk from the other side of the barracks near the Colonel's quarters. The four at the table turned to stare at him and swiveled to the other men around the barracks who only gave the same expressions.

LeBeau spoke finally, almost as if he was breaking their pact of calm for their fallen colonels. "The Kommandant asked that we escape if she is captured."

"Then what are we waiting for?" another, Private Gomez, said.

The person next to him said, "Yes, let's leave this petty hell already! We've got the tunnels and the means to escape. The Gestapo can't catch us now!"

The voices around the four were raised everywhere and before anyone at the table could answer, the sirens rang for roll call, the same sirens that Klink used when he didn't feel like having the guards provoke and gather the prisoners for roll call. It was strange that this was sounded, for the Gestapo usually came in, hustled the prisoners out, even harassed them, and forced them into a quick formation with guns at their backs. Their meager lives were measured out by the day and the fears that one would be shot for being slow wasn't silly. It was a real fear.

The minutes became stranger as time passed. When they all heard the familiar voice of Schultz, who never really called them for roll call alone since the Gestapo took over, it was a surprise. What did the Gestapo have for them? And what would happen if they all didn't answer the duty of which they all named roll call? Questions arose, questions that needed answers.

Kinch, the next in command (so Rob and I joke, because he's the most sensible of the bunch), motioned from his place at the table that they all endure this roll call and then plan for their getaway later. He knew, above all, that secrecy was the key. Indeed, they needed to keep quiet, for if the Krauts knew about their escape plans, and especially of the operation, it would really be the end.

"Rouse, everybody, rouse, rouse, rouse!" Schultz kept calling them out, and as the men in the barracks filed out quickly, they became more and more scared about what the Gestapo would have in store for them. Rob said he saw, through the cooler's window, "frightened men who had been through too much." And I agree with him. The men had seen way too much in this war and it wasn't just because they were shocked, in their minds, about the cruelty of war. They were working for their respective air forces, shot down, put in a P.O.W. camp and then tortured and hurt by the Gestapo in these past few months. What more can they endure after all this and the loss of not only one colonel, but two because the other was trying to get out this tight spot?

Formation was quickly assembled and the men stood stiffly and their backs straight for they knew one wrong move or a sloppy body would mean anything. Around them, although, the bleak black uniforms did not seem to exist as it had in previous months. It was bewildering to them: the Gestapo was nowhere in sight, the Luftwaffe guards back to their posts and the idiot, Kommandant Klink, coming out to Schultz with a clipboard screaming his usual cry for a "Rrrrrreeeeepppooooorrrrrtttt!" Worse (or was it better?), it was after dawn and not the usual early morning, dark pre-dawn roll call by the Gestapo. Schultz was guarding their barracks again and calling them out for roll call as Klink came out. It was stranger that Klink was in command, as it seems. Major Hochstetter wasn't even in sight and didn't come out, demanding what Klink was doing.

The enlisted men cut their postures down and slacked a little more. Where was the Gestapo? It was the main thought. It looked as if they were –

"All present and accounted for, Herr Kommandant!" a happy Schultz said as he checked off every name on the clipboard and saluted his superior officer, going off to the side as the Kommandant wanted to speak to the men.

Klink himself walked forward, as brave as the day's sunshine came into view, and started his speech. The men thought it was to be the usual droll about behaving for Hochstetter and how the Gestapo was coming back as soon as they could, but it turned out to be much, much different than what they had anticipated. It seemed to be an omen of hope as Klink started, "Gentlemen, gentlemen, please calm yourselves. As of early this morning, a mere hour ago, Major Hochstetter and his Gestapo sentries, including all those guards we all hated here, have left Stalag 13 permanently. I am now back in command of this outpost."

There was silence at the other end, but it wasn't out of disrespect. It was out of shock. Then it was Newkirk who started them into cheering. "Let's hear it for our 'ld Kommandant Klink!" he yelled loudly for the whole camp to hear. And there was that endless cheer that came from all parts of the camp and "it seemed to echo into the forests that even the patrols heard them. They probably started shooting when they did," Rob joked.

It took many moments before all the Luftwaffe (not Gestapo) guards could securely quiet all their prisoners down, at all the barracks. It was also a long time before Klink was able to speak again. Klink continued, "And since the Gestapo seems to have – shall I say – an incident within their walls, they have countered all accusations and executions they have granted to the prisoners." Klink turned to his left and gestured to a guard near the cooler, who opened the outer gate and went inside.

Klink swiveled back to the prisoners and smiled. "That means," he said, trying not to fall into his usual crackling laughter (triumph?), "that Colonel Hogan has been released from his stay of execution and is to stay as a prisoner here." Klink was overjoyed to have his camp back, his tone of voice indicated, so I am not surprised that he was ready to chortle with bliss.

The cheering, I was told later, was deafening. Yes, without a doubt, did Colonel Hogan walk out of the doors of the cooler with that guard, hurt and unshaven because of his ten days in there, but alive and well for everyone to see. Most of his bruises and cuts were still there and it caused some prisoners to wince, but he was alive! There was joy and some hope. There was someone dear to the men of the camp that came out alive. One colonel is living, but the other…?

The guard left Rob as soon as he reached closer to the formation. Rob, of course, had other ideas. He went over to the Kommandant and saluted him. "Good morning, Sir," he said as the enthusiastic yelling for him subsided somewhat. "Isn't it a lovely morning? It looks like it is going to snow later on, though. I can feel it." Rob paused. "Oh, have there been any proposals of surrender yet?" There was laughter from the men again. "I heard through the windows that the Gestapo was going to bring them by the truckload later on. You know, news has been scanty in that cell. I only hear what's out the window."

There was some more mirth from the men in the looser formation, but Klink wasn't happy and I am sure that he felt like putting Rob right back into the cooler for his insolent comments just as he came right out of there from a hellish experience. "Just get back into shape, Colonel Hogan," Klink now said through clenched teeth, "and you just forget about the little incident in the cooler."

Rob could only smile and head into formation, but he knew, even before he reached his men, that someone was missing. And so, when he stood by his comrades, Rob faced Klink and asked the question that nobody wanted to answer for him. "Kommandant, where is our lovely Colonel Michalovich? I would have thought that she was a ghost here the way she is standing here with the men."

Suddenly, everyone stood still and there was silence. Nobody stirred, after so much celebration, and I am sure that Klink was just as equally shocked to find Rob asking such a question. The reply to such a question required a carefully-crafted answer said with some dignity, but Klink wasn't quite a master at that yet. Instead, he chose the easiest way out: to tell the commanding officer of the prisoners that she was gone for the moment and transferred out of Stalag 13, on the orders of his superior. It was the truth, after all.

"She has been – disposed of right now," Klink said with some grief in his voice, choking down his words, "and transferred out of here to another camp by the orders of General Burkhalter. The order came earlier this morning, just an hour before Major Hochstetter was told to leave. Dddddiiiiisssss-missed!" Klink saluted the now soundless band of prisoners and went back to his office where he was going to see Burkhalter (speaking of the devil), who had just pulled in by car behind him just a few precious hours after the last visit, with more orders to mouth.

In the meantime, outside of the Kraut bubble, LeBeau, Kinch, Newkirk and Carter gathered around Rob and tried to pretend to be stimulated. They, naturally, yelled about his well-being until Rob asked his question again, silencing them all again. Why can't Colonel Hogan receive an answer? Why, more importantly, didn't the prisoners escape as he asked them to? He knew that some plan was hatched between the High Command in Germany (via General Burkhalter) and the prisoners here, to get the Gestapo out of a camp that is not theirs. The plan was supposed to be conspired with the next colonel and now, she's gone. What is going on here?

Rob looked to his men and sighed. He had one last resort and was afraid to use it because of the answer it would bring. "Now, tell me," Rob said, "and that's an order." Rob made sure that he was forceful and he knew that he would get an answer this way, but it wasn't the one that he wanted to hear. But it was the only way to get something out of them.

Kinch was the one who answered him. Oh, it was Kinch, always the one who brought everyone back to reality, and he said those words as he shoved his hands into his pockets, "She's been sent back…to…where she came from." He said the last part quickly and Rob knew what he meant. It was also Kinch that held my journal and my locket with Rob's ring dangling from it. All of the men, including Schultz, trusted him with it because of the close friendship he had with Rob and how much confidence I placed in him too.

"Colonel," Kinch added, "she left you these…" and he trailed in his sentence, handing them, the journal and locket with ring, to Rob, who took them mutely. Rob understood what was going on and it all dawned on him.

Rob moved with such quickness to his quarters and shut the door behind him. He placed an order, and his do not disturb sign up on his door so that nobody could to bother him and listen to him cry.

~00~

I knew what Rob did as he shifted through his quarters, pacing back and forth. He didn't need to say what he did. His nervousness told me everything, his red eyes indicating that he cried for a very long time.

At the time Rob thought everything was lost, though, the quarters was empty of his one-time companion, one that was always close to him and one who he also couldn't afford to lose. It was the second or third time Rob had to give me up and that time, he realized how ready he wasn't for it.

I had left my footlocker unlocked, for I knew in my heart that I wasn't coming back after the mission. I also knew that Rob would go through all the memories that I had left in there, all my clothes and personal effects that London had sent, and I was right. All the pictures, clothing, written accounts and journal and locket were at his disposal. He could do as he wished with them. I could even picture in my mind now that he would have tortured himself by going through every memory I placed in that locker, every piece of ourselves we have created, and that portion in his heart was broken.

My footlocker was left touched and its contents scattered as each and every memory was pulled out. But as soon as Rob saw piles of pictures, underneath my old Auschwitz uniform, and eventually the photograph of me, him and Michael with our families at the hospital on the bottom of my locker, the place where I have decided to keep my pain, he lost it. His flowing tears and whacking sobs, so uncharacteristic of him, had dampened the picture and he couldn't be stopped or comforted. It was the first time, in a long time, that he released his anger, sadness and despair in a continuing moan. He climbed to the top bunk and cried there, his face to his pillow with the picture caught in between.

Thoughts, so reflective of mine from long ago, etched his mind. All those times…all those times were for nothing…she's gone. She's gone from me.

~00~

When Rob finally emptied himself of tears, he was still laying on his top bunk with the last picture clutched into his hands and his face in his pillow. When he heard a knock on his door, he had to look respectable and not the nervous ruin that he was then. He jumped off his bunk, the picture on the pillow, combed his hair and checked that he was good enough for anyone to see, and he was. The redness of his eyes was mostly gone (the ridges remained the same) and he became the Colonel Hogan that everyone knew. It was safe to call out, "Come in." He expected one or some of his men as they were concerned for him. Instead, it was a sweet and delightful surprise that it was Schultz and not one of the alarmed men in the barracks.

"Colonel Hogan," Schultz said, "Kommandant KLINK and General Burkhalter want you in the Kommandant's office."

"What do they need from me, Schultz?" Rob asked as he reached under his pillow and took out his secret stash of chocolate bars (the supply was then sloppy and melted from the heat of his head and his anguish, but Schultz would not have minded at all). He waved them in Schultz's direction and got his usual reaction. Schultz quickly took whatever Rob had in his hands (even Rob didn't know what he gave Schultz) and waited until Schultz was through with most of the chocolate, which made the Sergeant's hands become brown and reeking of chocolate.

Through fistfuls of softened chocolate stuffed in the Sergeant's mouth, Rob got his answer and some information. "Mr. Big SHOT and the Kommandant…want – to…talk to you about…the pretty colonel. I – think…they want her – back…here. It's SOME-thing about you – coming to bring…her back."

Sorrow crept back into Rob and I knew he fought the urge to shed tears again. "Thanks, Schultz," was all Rob said – all that he could say – as he went out the door, ignoring the curious and saddened stares of his fellow concerned prisoners. He refused to see the medic, he had locked himself in his quarters and they all heard their colonel sob like a child. Why else would the others be so concerned? All Rob was worried about at that moment was surviving without me. It wasn't his wellbeing that concerned him most. He wanted everything back exactly as it was before, even with the same people.

Besides which, more important issues and conflicts pestered at Rob like a sore thumb. What did General Burkhalter and Kommandant Klink want anyway? And why would they want to talk to him now? More importantly, why do they need him to bring her back from the dead?

"Colonel Hogan, I am so glad to see you back," General Burkhalter said to Rob as soon as he came into Klink's office. "Sit, please." As usual, Burkhalter was playing nice-nice and when he usually does, we all knew that the General wanted something or anyone else, for that matter.

"It's such an honor to see you again, General," Rob replied as he seated himself in front of Klink's desk knowing that they both wanted something, "but what should I say this honor is about?"

Rob was being vigilant. Whatever was going on had to be this serious if General Burkhalter called him in and needed something from him. Klink did not say a word about this sudden meeting and was stoic in his appearance, somewhat of a change because, for once, he had obeyed an order without it being spoken (shutting up, I mean). Burkhalter, on the hand, was pacing the office and was appearing to be nervous, grabbing a full glass of alcohol from atop of Klink's cabinet, the one opposite of the main doorway. He started pacing again with the drink in his hand and finally stopped his pacing and drank the glass with one gulp, something unusual. Then, the glass hit Klink's desk with Klink jumping and the General stood up straight. He faced Rob and admitted something – a fault. He was blaming himself for something.

"Colonel Hogan," Burkhalter began with his hands behind his back, "it has come to my understanding that you and Colonel Michalovich have a relationship with each other."

"I didn't know you could put two and two together," Rob joked about such a delicate and secretive topic with a twinkle in his eyes. When he saw the anger in both pairs of Kraut eyes, Klink's included, he said, "Sorry, bad taste."

Burkhalter continued anyway. "Colonel, it has also come to my attention that you both have been together for years, as it appears to me through your familiarity. And so the Gestapo says. They even have a dual file on the both of you now that new evidence has come to light and been leaked." Burkhalter paused. "Now, when the Gestapo was here, I made a deal with the Colonel with the understanding that if she didn't get the Gestapo out –"

"It was with my help of course, General!" Klink said with a smile.

"Shut up, Klink!" Burkhalter yelled before talking to Rob again in a more irritated tone. "Now, Colonel Hogan, I told her that if she didn't get the Gestapo out, she'd be shipped to Poland. If she did, you'd be out of the cooler and not be executed. General Vundel, who was formally in charge of Major Hochstetter, has been arrested by the Gestapo itself and is going to be tried as a traitor because of incriminating papers his aide turned in and most surprisingly, it was with her help and without their knowledge." Muttering, Burkhalter, said, "Of course, the aide has somehow disappeared, probably a work of Vundel…" Then, speaking up, he continued, "We also have no idea where she got this help, either. Now, I have sent her back –"

"And you want me to come with you to get her out," Rob interjected, remembering what Schultz said earlier.

"You can say that," Burkhalter said. "But remember this, Hogan: you are a prisoner and will travel as such. You can verify who she is by asking only three intimate questions, help her get out with the proper paperwork signed and travel back to Stalag 13. That is all."

I knew Rob would do it and he did. He came to get me out of the festering hellhole I had wished never existed. Now, to where I was, faraway from Germany…