A/N: I don't own Hogan's Heroes and I don't get paid for this; it is truly a labor of love.

A missing scene from "Killer Klink".


Schultz was elated to get confirmation of his furlough from the Kommandant: a whole week, not just three days! But he decided that he wouldn't tempt fate by asking Gretchen to meet him at Luftstalag 13 as before. She might still be so angry with him that she would refuse to do it!

So he planned to surprise her instead.

But during the train journey to Heidelberg, doubts began to creep into poor Schultz's mind, and he wondered uneasily if Gretchen had forgiven him yet. If only he hadn't handed her the flowerpot when she came to the stalag! If only Colonel Hogan hadn't given him the flowerpot in the first place! He looked down at the wretched thing, which was resting innocently on the seat beside him.

The flowerpot seemed to symbolize every unpleasant thing that had ever happened to Schultz since Colonel Robert Hogan had come into his life. Why had he agreed to deliver the flowerpot, anyway? This particular item had caused him a world of trouble, precipitating the terrible argument with Gretchen, his wife, his confidant, the only person in the world whom he could trust! Perhaps he had lost her forever.

And it was all Colonel Hogan's fault, as usual. Anger with the American rose in his heart again, such a righteous anger!

Schultz decided to get rid of the flowerpot the first chance he got.


After arriving in Heidelberg, Schultz was somewhat apprehensive as he approached the shabby little house that he called home. He had the flowerpot in one hand and a small box of chocolates (obtained at a staggering cost from the black market) in the other as he walked up to the door.

As he raised his hand to knock, the door swung open and Gretchen was there. Her eyes widened with surprise, and a delighted smile appeared. But her gaze immediately went to the flowerpot and she sighed. "Hansi, you never learn, do you?"

Schultz looked down at the flowerpot in dismay. How could he have forgotten to dispose of it? Gretchen would have every right to be angry! But to his astonishment, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him instead.

Schultz mumbled, "Gretchen, I must..."

She put her fingertips to his lips and shook her head. "We have a visitor."

"A visitor?"

She looked back over her shoulder, in the direction of the sitting room. "It is Johann, I'm afraid," she said in a low voice. "The children are trying to entertain him. Here, let me take that."

She put the flowerpot on the hall table and helped him remove his greatcoat. As she did so, Schultz thought about Johann, his cousin and the bane of his existence. Sergeant Johann Sebastian Schultz was a prison guard like Schultz, but at a camp in Austria. He did not visit often but it was never pleasant when he did.

Schultz had been looking forward to this pass so he could spend time with Gretchen and the children, not with his unpleasant cousin who also happened to be a fanatical Nazi. But the very fact of Johann's evil political convictions meant that Schultz and his family would have to pretend to be glad to see him.

Schultz sighed and looked at the box of chocolates in his hand. "These were for you, Gretchen," he said sadly, "but..."

She smiled and whispered: "None for Johann, I promise you! I'll put them in my apron pocket and we'll share them with the children, later."

In the sitting room four blonde and blue-eyed girls perched stiffly and silently on a settee, facing the unwanted guest. Aged ten through fifteen, they were well-scrubbed and dressed in their somewhat shabby best. Their eyes brightened when they caught sight of their father, but no boisterous welcome was forthcoming, not with the visitor present.

The fifth child, a redheaded little boy, was peering over the back of the settee, his eyes like saucers. Wolfie was actually Schultz's nephew, but his parents were dead and so now he was part of Schultz's family. Like his cousins he, too, was well-scrubbed and unnaturally silent.

Schultz turned to Johann and greeted him with some misgiving, although his cousin was his usual jovial self. Jovial in appearance, at any rate. His bulbous nose and dimpled chin would have made him a good candidate for an American Santa Claus, if only one could ignore the coldness in his eyes.

Schultz knew him only too well, remembering how his cousin used to take pleasure in pulling the wings off flies in the days of their youth. Now he was talking about "his boys" in Stalag 17, and obviously relishing all he had done to make their lives even more miserable.

If only I were more like Johann, Schultz thought with a brief touch of cynicism, Colonel Hogan would behave himself!

But then he saw the horrified looks on the faces of the children as they gazed at Johann, and he said sharply, "Gretchen, is it not time for die Kinder to get ready for bed?"

The children leapt to their feet as one, hurriedly brushed Schultz's and Gretchen's cheeks with goodnight kisses, muttered polite goodbyes to Johann, and vanished from the room. The eldest girl, Sofia, brought up the rear, herding them along like an anxious Schäferhund.

Johann watched the children exit, and gave a booming laugh that didn't affect the flat coldness in his eyes in the least. "Dear little ones! Never mind, Hans. I must be going myself; I have to be back at Stalag 17 in the morning and I have a train to catch."

Gretchen fetched his overcoat and helped him put it on. Johann thanked her, and paused in the tiny hallway to peer at the flowerpot that sat on the hall table.

He flicked one of the leaves with a contemptuous finger. "Flowers, Hans? You sly devil! Better watch him, Gretchen—he's up to no good."

Gretchen drew herself up, looked him in the eye, and lied through her teeth. "Hansi often brings me flowers."

Johann snickered. "Proves my point."

"No," said Gretchen. "Hansi brings me flowers because he is a kind and good husband."

Johann raised his hands in mock surrender. "Oh, very well! I can see that I shall have to start bringing my own wife flowers—can't have Hans showing me up. Auf Wiedersehen!"

"Wiedersehen." Schultz closed the door firmly once his cousin had crossed the threshold.

Gretchen pressed her lips together tightly, and then shook her head and sighed. "I am sorry, Liebling. I know he is your cousin, but I cannot stand him. He is one of them."

"Them?"

"A Nazi." She picked up the flowerpot and marched into the kitchen, with Schultz following her meekly.

She set the flowerpot on the kitchen table and turned away to busy herself with the teapot. Meanwhile Schultz dropped into a chair with a gusty sigh.

Gretchen spoke without looking at him. "The flowerpot again? Really, Hansi!"

With a frown Schultz pushed the flowerpot across the tabletop, as far away from him as he could. "It is from Colonel Hogan, to be delivered to Liesl, the girl who had him arrested when he was shot down over Heidelberg."

"I thought you told me that he was shot down over Hamburg."

"Ja, ja, he was, the Kommandant told me so. But..."

"Aha!" Gretchen pounced on this. "Monkey business, is it not? I should have known it was Colonel Hogan's doing when I saw you at the stalag with that same flowerpot." She turned toward him with a determined glint in her eye. "It is always monkey business with Colonel Hogan, you have said so yourself."

"Ja, it is monkey business all right, but this time I will have no part of it." Schultz glared at the inoffensive plant. "I shall drop this in the rubbish bin."

She put a cup and saucer in front of him and began to pour out. "No."

He stared at his wife in confusion. "No?"

Gretchen sat down opposite to her husband and calmly poured tea into her own cup. "You are angry with Colonel Hogan."

"Of course I am, Gretchen! This flowerpot business is just a small part of what I have had to deal with. You do not know what those prisoners have forced me to do, how much trouble they have caused for me!" He added, sadly, "Or how much they laugh at me."

She cut him off. "It does not matter, does it?"

"How can you say that?" Schultz grumbled.

Gretchen took a sip of her tea. "Hansi, five years ago you were the owner of the Schatzi Toy Company, the largest in Germany. You managed it well and kept your employees working, even during the hard times. You were a proud man and you were determined to support your family, even when the Nazis took over your factory for war production. So you lied about your age and enlisted in the Luftwaffe. And you have continued to be a good man while serving as a prison guard—not at all like Johann is."

She paused and reached out to grasp his hand. "But things have changed, Hansi. Now these prisoners, of whom you used to speak so affectionately, and who used to amuse you so much, make you angry instead."

Schultz opened his mouth to speak, but she shook her head, silencing him. "You used to be a fine figure of a man, but now you weigh much too much. You gamble away half your wages. And do not get me started on those barmaids you have been trying to romance!"

Schultz's eyes almost popped out of his head. "B-b-barmaids?"

"Barmaids," Gretchen said sternly. "Tante Fritzi has a friend in Hammelburg, as you know very well, and the woman was very happy to give her all the details!" She sighed. "But I forgive you, because I know you would never go beyond a few stolen kisses. And also because I know that no girl in her right mind would seriously consider you as a lover."

Chastened, Schultz mumbled, "I am sorry, Gretchen. You are right, it went no further than that; I suppose it made me feel important. But I have already decided not to see any more barmaids. Because of my stupid behavior, I almost got sent to the Eastern Front, and it would have served me right!"

At Gretchen's horrified exclamation, he went on to relate what had happened at the Hofbräu, and all about the Gestapo officer, his transfer order, and how the order was rescinded when Major Kiegel was arrested.

"Sehr gut." Gretchen's eyes softened and she gave a sigh of relief. "But you understand why the strudel, the barmaids, and the gambling, don't you?"

Schultz just looked at her, unable to speak.

She smiled sadly. "Liebling, you have suffered so many losses since the Nazis came to power. Your company, our lovely home, the respect you once accepted as your due. Now we live in this shabby little house, we are eking out a living between my factory work and your duties at the Luftstalag, and you are forced to knuckle under to a Kommandant who constantly belittles you. Plus, you are in charge of prisoners who are not only involved in some very questionable activities, it seems that they are not showing you proper respect either."

"That is all very true," Schultz said, and heaved a sigh.

"I am not surprised that you are angry and depressed, and doing anything you can to feel better. But you have been at Luftstalag 13 for several years now, and somehow you've dealt with all those issues one way or another. Until now. There is something more, is there not?" Her eyes were intent on his.

Schultz's broad shoulders slumped, and all at once he looked every one of his fifty-nine years. "You are correct, Liebling. I am not stupid nor am I blind, no matter what the Kommandant and Colonel Hogan think. And I don't choose to believe everything Herr Goebbels sees fit to tell us, or anything Colonel Klink has to say, for that matter."

He pushed his cup and saucer aside and looked up at her. "Gretchen, Germany is going to lose this war."

His wife tightened her grip on his hand, and said, "I know. But it's not as though you agreed with the present regime anyway—or with the madman who rules this country. Remember that September day in 1939, when our armies invaded Poland? You were home on leave, here in Heidelberg with me. "

Schultz nodded slowly.

"And I held you as you cried. We both cried because even though we had tried to explain away Kristallnacht, and the Anschluss, and the annexation of the Sudetenland...this we could not ignore. And you said: Enough is enough."

"Because it was wrong. So wrong...all of it."

"Ja." Gretchen's eyes were full of tears. "And look what has happened since! Hansi, Hansi...we cannot protect our family from the Nazis. The best we can hope is for the Allies to bring a swift end to the war."

"So what do we do? Pray for liberation?" Schultz sighed. "It won't be liberation, it will be occupation. And there will be vengeance, you know there will. The Russians grow closer every day."

Gretchen shook her head decisively. "No. The western Allies will reach us first. The Russians will be eager to take Berlin, and I am sure der Führer will order it to be defended to the last man...or child."

Schultz gazed at her with respect. "That is true! But what can we do? The western Allies will be bent on vengeance too."

Gretchen nodded slowly, her face set in sad lines. Finally she said, "Hansi."

Schultz shot her a look.

"I am going to ask you to do something," she said. "Something very difficult. But you must do it for the sake of the children."

"What?" But he knew what was coming.

Her answer was blunt. "Sink your pride, and accept your role at the camp."

Schultz began to protest, but Gretchen was adamant.

"So what if they make use of you, and make fun of you as well?" she said. "You have dealt with Colonel Hogan and his men for years now; think of all those times you have helped him in the past! Why should you not carry on as before? Perhaps Colonel Hogan will be able to speak for you when the Allies come!"

Schultz looked up sharply, remembering. "He did write a letter of recommendation for me once." He sighed. "Of course, the Kommandant confiscated it."

She nodded. "It is possible, then, is it not, that he might do the same in the future? If you cooperate now."

"But, Gretchen..."

His wife paid no heed. "You have always maintained that you are a neutral. So you have no interest in protecting the Nazis, do you? Your only duty is to protect yourself and your family. And the best way you can protect our little ones is to cooperate with Colonel Hogan." Her eyes began to twinkle. "I have a strong suspicion that your Colonel Hogan was the one who saved you from Major Kiegel and the Eastern Front, after all."

Schultz's eyes widened as it all became clear to him. The one time he landed in trouble entirely of his own accord, and somehow Colonel Hogan rescued him anyway! He should have known.

He sighed as he realized what he must do. Yes, he would cooperate. But then a sly grin appeared, an expression that better suited Schultz's normally easygoing personality than the frown that had graced his brow for these past few weeks. There was no reason why he couldn't have a little fun with the Colonel, was there? After all, he still had to act the part of a guard, didn't he?

It might be ver-r-ry interesting to keep the American on his toes. Good practice for him, too! Schultz chuckled softly, picturing it in his mind.

But there was still the little matter of the flowerpot. As if she could read his mind, Gretchen pushed it back across the table toward him.

"And the first thing you must do is to deliver this flowerpot, just as Colonel Hogan asked."