Chapter 9-The Morning After

The men lined up in formation for roll call. As Schultz slowly counted each prisoner pausing when he got to Colonel Hogan and noticed he was wearing sunglasses. He was about to comment when Klink's voice boomed though the air.

"Schultz! Reopooooooooooooooooort!"

Hogan winced as did several of the men. Everybody was hung over from the night before and all everyone wanted was to skip breakfast, lay back down and sleep. Klink's loud voice wasn't helping to ease the sound of the brass band still playing in his head.

Schultz saluted Klink. "Herr Kommandant, all prisoners present and accounted for."

Klink saluted. "Very good, Schultz. Now…." he paused when his eyes fell on Hogan. "Colonel Hogan, why are you wearing sunglasses at roll call?" Klink asked with a blank expression wondering what his Senior POW officer was up to this morning.

"I'm going Hollywood, sir," Hogan replied innocently, hoping Klink would let things drop. He was wrong.

Schultz started laughing but stopped when he saw Klink glaring at him. "Dummkopf, don't encourage him!" He turned back to Hogan. "I'm waiting for….wait a minute. You said something about going Hollywood?"

"Yes sir."

"What Hollywood? This is a POW camp in Germany."

"I could be discovered anywhere, sir," Hogan replied with a straight face. Actually, his stomach was feeling queasy, and the brass band in his head wasn't helping. "Got to look the part just in case. I mean, Lana Turner was discovered in a drugstore, why couldn't I be discovered in a prisoner-of-war camp?"(1) There were snickers among the men.

"HoGAAAAAAAN!" Klink shouted his fist shaking in Hogan's face. "You will remove those sunglasses at once or I'll have you thrown in the cooler for the duration of the war. Now take them off!"

Hogan sighed wearily. "Yes, sir." He removed the sunglasses, squinted at the early morning sunrise and tucked the glasses inside his inner jacket pocket. "Satisfied, sir?"

Klink stomped up to his American counterpart until he stood directly in front of him. He studied the American's face and eyes closely. "Hogan, why do you look like you were up all night?"

"I do?" Hogan asked, a look of horror on his face. He looked directly at Newkirk who stood beside him. "Newkirk, how could you let me leave the barracks without putting on my makeup? You know I don't look my best in the early morning hours."

Newkirk looked apologetically at his commander. "I'm sorry, Colonel. It won't happen again, sir. You have me word on that."

Hogan faced Klink looking remorseful. "I promise from here on end, Kommandant, I won't forget my makeup before I appear for roll call ever again."

"Hrmph!" Klink uttered before looking at Schultz. "Schultz, dismiss your men." He saluted, turned abruptly and stomped away in a huff. Schultz dismissed the prisoners; then with a chuckle, approached the Colonel.

"Hollywood. For a moment I thought you might be serious, Colonel Hogan." He laughed again.

Removing the sunglasses from inside his jacket, Hogan put them on again and grinned at the guard. "When I get to Hollywood, Schultz, I'll send you an autographed picture. You can hang it in place of old fruitcake's." He then walked back towards the barracks followed by his team.


Once inside the barracks, Hogan took off the sunglasses and tossed them onto the table along with his crush cap. He ran a hand over his hair and swore even his hair hurt right now as he sat down at the table along with Kinch, Carter and Newkirk; LeBeau was busily pouring hot coffee for everybody. Out of the entire group in the barracks, only Olsen, Baker and Newkirk weren't suffering the after-effects of the night before.

"Thanks, LeBeau," Hogan groaned as he gripped the coffee mug and took a drink. Smiling faintly, he pinched the bridge of his nose. The band was playing even louder. Kinch and Carter just mumbled something incoherent as they took a drink of coffee. Even the Frenchman was silent as he handed Newkirk a cup of coffee before sitting down with one himself. Kinch rubbed his eyes with one hand while Carter laid his forehead down on his arms resting on the table; periodically lifting his head to take a drink of coffee only.

"Here's hoping London doesn't call us with a mission," moaned LeBeau. "None of us are in any shape to do anything."

"I'll tell you one thing," Kinch said massaging his forehead. "If anybody's going to monitor the radio it isn't going to be me. Not today anyway." He gave a quick glimpse at Baker who usually backed him up or relieved him.

"And whose bloody fault is that, hmmm?" asked Newkirk staring at LeBeau. "You and your homemade battery acid."

"Don't blame me," the Frenchman retorted. "I told you to get a case of wine when you grabbed the case of champagne. But non, you said it would be too obvious to Klink."

"He's right, Newkirk," Carter added looking up. "You did say that."

"Oh sod off, both of you!" the Englander answered.

"All right, hold it," Hogan replied with closed eyes. God, his head hurt to even hear himself talk. "It doesn't matter who said or did what. Last night is over and regardless of how we all feel this morning, with three exceptions, it was fun." He opened his eyes and looked at his men with a smile. "And I thank all of you for a fun party. Even the prank was fun after I got over the shock." He looked over his shoulder at the others stretched out on their bunks. "Thanks guys for a fun night. I'll remember it the rest of my life. Even the joke Newkirk, Baker and Olsen pulled on me."

"You're welcome, sir," somebody said.

"It was our pleasure, Colonel," Olsen added. Then, the Sergeant's eyes narrowed. "Hey, does anybody know how Wilson is? I remember him being here."

"Oui, he was," LeBeau replied looking around. "But he didn't have much to drink. About one glass I think, maybe not even that. Said the alcohol was too potent. I'm sure he's fine."

"Better than the rest of us at least," Hogan agreed. He drained his coffee cup and shakily got to his feet. "If you gentlemen will excuse me, I'm going into my quarters, take two aspirin and lay down for awhile. If I'm lucky, by the time I wake up, the brass band will have stopped playing in my head."

LeBeau looked up. "But Colonel, I'm about to prepare breakfast."

Hogan made a face as the thought of food made him want to throw up. "I'll pass, LeBeau. Thanks anyway. But perhaps the others might want something to eat." He slowly made his way into his quarters closing the door behind him quietly.

Checking around the barracks after Hogan left, the Frenchman discovered nobody including Newkirk, Baker and Olsen wanted to even smell food so LeBeau shrugged his shoulders and went back to drinking his coffee. "Well," he announced softly. "Since you three are the only ones still standing upright after last night, Olsen and Baker can put the finishing touches on the tunnels we are using for the wedding and the reception." He then turned his stare to the Englander. "And Newkirk can continue sewing the wedding gown."

Newkirk arched his eyebrows. "You expect me to go down in the tunnel and work on that bloody wedding gown by meself?"

"And why not?" LeBeau teased despite a raging headache. "You are the one with the experience, non?"

"Some experience," Newkirk muttered. "A flippin' seamstress of a bridal gown." He then smirked back at the Frenchman. "I trust you will be checking on my needlework monsieur LeBeau?" he said sarcastically.

"Oui, but of course. You don't think I'd trust you alone with a needle and thread."

Newkirk simply rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Look, if you two are going to argue…" said Kinch rubbing his eyes again. "…take it below. I'm going to lay down and take a nap. The brass band may be what the Colonel heard in his head, I think the drums are in mine." He got to his feet and stretched out on Olsen's empty bunk since the Sergeant would be below working.

"I think I'll join you," Carter agreed as he made his way to his own bunk and stretched out, pulling the blanket over his head.

Getting to his feet, LeBeau hit the hidden mechanism and kept the lower bunk from rattling upward awakening the men were laying on their bunks whether asleep or not, and waved his arm in the direction of the tunnel opening with a grin.

"After you gentlemen," he said looking at Newkirk, Olsen and Baker.

Newkirk, rolling his eyes in exasperation, glanced at the two Sergeants as he got up. "Let's go, mates," he said. "At least in the tunnel we'll have some ruddy peace and quiet."


Several hours later in the tunnel, Olsen and Baker joined Newkirk in the sewing room having worked on the decorations in the two rooms of the tunnel. They sat down at the table with Newkirk.

"Finished?" asked the Englander glancing up for a second.

"Not really," said Baker. "We're just taking a break and thought we'd sit with you for awhile. They both watched Newkirk's nimble fingers as they worked.

"Looks beautiful, Newkirk," remarked Olsen. He touched the material. "What kind of material is this?"

"I think LeBeau said it was rayon or some such thing," Newkirk commented a bit harsher than he meant to while he continued sewing.(2)

Baker and Olsen exchanged looks before Olsen looked at Newkirk.

"Newkirk, can I ask you a question?" asked Olsen.

"Sure mate."

"Are you upset about something?"

Newkirk looked up then with arched eyebrows. "What makes you ask that?"

"Well, you've been acting strange since LeBeau mentioned he wanted to make a wedding gown for Tiger. And you've been pretty vocal about it."

Newkirk chuckled and shook his head. "Blimey, I'm sorry if you think that. First off, I enjoy jerking LeBeau's chain. Second, if I didn't want to make the bleedin' gown there'd be nothing anybody could do or say to make Peter Newkirk change his bleedin' mind. And finally, I'd do anything for the Gov'nor and me mates, and everybody knows it. I want this bleedin' gown to be the best gown I can make." He smiled faintly. "I hope that answers your question."

"It does," Olsen said with a grin. "I didn't mean to give you the wrong impression."

Newkirk grinned. "It's okay, mate. We're all kinda tired tryin' to get everything done in time for this wedding. I'm just hoping we can do it. Blimey, I want the Gov'nor's wedding to be one that he and Tiger will remember all the days of their lives. I'm just afraid we won't be able to get everything done on time."

Olsen smiled and patted the Englander's knee. "Newkirk, if anybody can finish making a wedding gown in time it's you. Besides, from what I've heard, Tiger's half the size of Burkhalter's niece." He laughed and was joined by Baker and Newkirk. Olsen motioned with his hand to Baker. "Let's get back to work, Richard. We've got two rooms to work on."

He and Baker got to their feet and left Newkirk alone to continue with his sewing.

A few short minutes after they had left, a smiling LeBeau appeared. Newkirk looked up quizzically. "In case you haven't noticed, mate, I'm sewing as fast as I can."

Folding his arms, the Frenchman continued smile. "I know mon ami. I overheard your conversation with Baker and Olsen."

"Oh," was all Newkirk could say as he lowered his head and sighed. "You weren't suppose to hear that." He continued sewing.

"Does it matter so much to you that I did?"

Newkirk shrugged without stopping what he was doing. "Nothing I can do about it now can I?"

LeBeau knelt down in front of the Englander and rested a hand on his causing him to stop his sewing, "Pierre, look at me." Newkirk raised his head and looked directly into LeBeau's eyes. "Mon ami, why don't you want anybody to know how you feel? There is nothing wrong with letting people know how you feel."

"C'mon, Louie, you know me. I'm not comfortable with people knowin' how I feel. Even with you chaps and the Gov'nor, I just can't is all. Doesn't mean I don't care 'cause I do. It's just that I prefer not to show it is all." He grinned. "Aren't you suppose to be resting from your bleedin' hangover from your homemade swill?"

"There is still too much to do if, as you say, we are to make the Colonel and Tiger's wedding a memorable one. Besides, Kinch and Carter are sleeping as I assume is the Colonel. I came below to see how things are going. I have faith in you mon ami. Faith that you can made a beautiful wedding gown for Tiger. If I didn't, I wouldn't have wanted you to sew it." He sighed. "So, show me what you have done so far." He stood up.

Sighing, Newkirk slowly got his feet and held up the gown which was partially done. "Well, what d'ya think, mate?"

"Magnifique, Pierre. It is beautiful. In another day or so we can get Tiger here for a fitting."

Newkirk smiled. "You think so?"

"Oui, I do. When this gown is finished and Colonel Hogan sees her in it, he will be speechless."

Newkirk laughed. "The Gov'nor speechless? That's something I have to see for meself to believe." He laughed again and LeBeau shared it with him even though the Frenchman's hangover made even laughing painful.

"That reminds me, Louie. How are we gonna get Tiger here for her fitting without the Gov'nor finding out?"

"How long before the gown is ready for Tiger to have her first fitting?"

Newkirk looked at his handiwork so far. "I'd say if I work pretty much round the clock probably day after tomorrow at the earliest. Why?"

"I've been thinking about how to get Tiger here without the Colonel finding out but haven't come up with any ideas yet. Perhaps Kinch can come up with something but I will not wake him now. He is very, how would you say, grouchy, when he doesn't get enough sleep just like the Colonel."

"Not to mention hung over as well," Newkirk added with a chuckle.

"Oui, and hung over as well." LeBeau and Newkirk shared another laugh.


Captain Fritz Fuchs with the Gestapo and Major Wolfgang Hochstetter's second-in-command sat behind his desk sorting through his mail when he spied the envelope from France he had been waiting for. He quickly opened it and removed the cover letter and the document enclosed with it. A slow smile crossed his face. He had rushed the paperwork through to people he knew in the French underground the moment he had been informed of Papa Bear's impending nuptials hoping his gift to his friend and Tiger would arrive in time and it did.

Putting the cover letter and document back into their envelope, Fuchs safely tucked the envelope into his inside jacket pocket. He would take it home for safekeeping rather than take a chance keeping it in the office. He continued to smile thinking about Hogan's upcoming wedding. Never in his wildest imagination did he ever think someone would catch the American; after-all, he knew how much Hogan enjoyed the ladies. His reputation with the female members of the underground was legendary. Fuchs, chuckling, shook his head in amusement. He still couldn't believe Hogan was getting married. His thoughts then turned to Tiger. He had met the French resistance leader two times and thought she was a beautiful woman and apparently just as smitten with the American Colonel as he was with her. Even after their first meeting, Fuchs told himself if any woman would catch Hogan, Tiger would be the one. He could tell by the way the Colonel looked at her. They looked at each other the way he and his Lilli did; Fuchs' smile widened.

His Lilli, with her hazel eyes and light brown hair. Like Tiger, Lilli was stunning to look at. He knew she was the one for him the first time he saw her across the room at a party one of his married friends was throwing . After getting up the nerve to approach her, he discovered she had been watching him as well. In fact, she had even inquired of one of the guests about who was the handsome young man with blond hair and blue eyes. It was then Fuchs and Lilli found out the wife of Fuchs' friend had invited both of them because she thought she would play matchmaker and they would make a handsome couple.

Yep, Fuchs knew just how Hogan felt.


(1) Lana Turner (b 2/8/21- d 6/29/95) from throat cancer was born Julia Jean Turner in Wallace, Idaho. She was discovered at a Hollywood drugstore. She was introduced to Warner Brothers film director Mervyn LeRoy, who decided to cast her in his upcoming film THEY WON'T FORGET. LeRoy suggested she change her first name to Lana. During WW2, Lana became a popular pin-up girl. Information courtesy of Wikipedia.

(2) Production of rayon for textiles started in 1899 in the Vereingte Glanzstofffabriken AG in Oberbruch. The name rayon was adopted in 1924.