Chapter 9
The recreation hall was packed with prisoners from all twenty barracks for Colonel Hogan's memorial service. In fact, there was standing room only. Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter were seated in the front row along with Colonel Klink and Sergeant Schultz. A few other guards were in the back with the prisoners who were standing. Klink had permitted Colonel Crittendon to attend the memorial service with the understanding that he would be returned to the cooler promptly afterwards. He was standing in the back between two guards. However, when the men saw him, there was grumbling going on. But Kinch and the others quieted them by reminding them that they were here to honor Colonel Hogan and there was no place for their personal feelings for Crittendon here. An apology was given and the incident promptly forgotten.
Kinch had been elected by the other three as Hogan's second-in-command to be the one in charge. He felt the best way to honor the Colonel was for people who wanted to talk about him or recall stories of when they first met him to stand up and feel free to do so. When he saw the room was packed, Kinch got up and approached the table on which Klink had allowed a podium with a microphone so the men could be heard. Taking a deep breath, Kinch asked for everybody attention.
"I want to first thank all of you for coming." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "We're here to honor our former Senior POW officer, Colonel Robert Hogan. As you are all aware, Colonel Hogan died two days ago while enroute to Stalag 15 on the Berlin Express." His eyes fell on Crittendon who cleared his throat and bowed his eyes to avoid Kinch's. "Colonel Hogan first arrived at Stalag 13 three years ago and soon proved to the men in camp the kind of officer he was," Kinch continued now looking at the gathering. "He was not only a good and dedicated officer, a good Senior POW officer who saw to it that his men had what they needed, but most of all he was a good friend to everyone in this camp. Now, if anybody wishes to say something about the Colonel or has a story to tell, please feel free to approach the podium and tell us."
Over the course of the next ninety minutes, many of the men from various barracks, had stories to tell or just spoke their thoughts about the Colonel. Then, Newkirk got up and approached the podium. He gripped the edges and let out a deep breath as he tried to collect his thoughts. Licking his dry lips, he looked out at the men and swallowed hard. "I remember when I first met the Gov'nor," he began, his voice cracking as he fought to maintain his composure. "Everybody knows I had no ruddy use for officers. Never cared for 'em. Total waste of me time. But Colonel Hogan, he was different from the other officers I'd known. He was witty, smart as a whip, and had a golden tongue. And he cared about his men. They came first with him. Always. Never knew him to ask for anything for himself; it was always for the men. I grew to respect him both as an officer and considered him a good friend. In fact…" Newkirk stopped as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. He took a couple of deep breaths before continuing. "In fact, for an officer, he was the best mate someone like me ever had." Returning to his seat, Carter wrapped an arm around the Englander's shoulders in an attempt to comfort him.
The little Frenchman was next to get up. He sighed as he looked at the other three before he began. "As most of you know, both Newkirk and I were already here when Colonel Hogan came. To say he and I got along when we first met was an understatement. I disliked him although now I couldn't tell you why anymore. But I grew to respect and admire him. And most of all, I considered him a close friend. I was proud to have him as my commanding officer and I will miss him." With his lower lip trembling, LeBeau looked up at the heavens. "Au revoir, mon Colonel," he said. He then sat back down and let out a deep breath.
Newkirk indicated to Carter that he was okay and nodded at his friend. Satisfied Newkirk was all right, Carter slowly got up and stepped up to the podium. Carter's eyes were brimming with unshed tears.
"I'm not used to speaking to a group of people," he said. "But even more than that, I can't believe I'm speaking about Colonel Hogan in the past tense. I still have a hard time believing he's gone. I mean two days ago he was here with us and then he was gone." Carter wiped his eyes as the tears started to roll down his cheeks. "When I first got here, I was scared to death of everything. I didn't make friends easily. But Colonel Hogan, he took me under his wing so to speak, and taught me how not to be afraid and became my friend. In fact, he helped me make friends. That's how I met and became friends with Kinch, LeBeau and Newkirk. He also gave me confidence that I could do anything I set my mind to. And I'll always be grateful for his help, guidance, and leadership." Carter's voice began to break. "But most of all, I'll always be grateful for his friendship." He quickly walked away and sat down beside Newkirk, his entire body shaking as he buried his face in his hands. Newkirk wrapped his arm around Carter's shoulders and hugged his close attempting to comfort the younger man. Kinch slowly got up and approached the podium again.
"If nobody else has anything to add…."
"Excuse me, Sergeant, but I would like to say a few words," a voice in the back said. The voice was Crittendon's.
LeBeau and Newkirk looked around while Kinch stared. Then they looked at Kinch. They could tell he didn't like the idea any more than they did, but this was about Hogan. They nodded at the radioman.
"Very well, Colonel Crittendon," Kinch said. "You can say a few words." He stood aside as Crittendon walked forward and approached the podium.
"Thank you, Sergeant," Crittendon replied glancing at Kinch who restrained himself. He then looked at the crowd who he could see was not pleased to see him but remained quiet.
"I had the pleasure of meeting Colonel Hogan about three years ago. Jolly good man. Fine officer. Never heard him say a harsh word to or against anybody. And he always treated me with the utmost respect even though I outranked him on date of rank. But that's beside the point." Crittendon's lower lip quivered as he continued. "Hogan, you were a good friend and I am so, so sorry. You'll be missed. Farewell, my friend." He looked at Kinch. "Jolly good of you for allowing me to speak my piece, Sergeant." He stepped down and returned to the back of the room where his guards waited. Kinch then asked everybody to stand.
"Ten hut!" he said as all the men rose as one, and saluted their fallen commanding officer. Even Klink, Schultz, and the guards in the back of the room saluted; but not the typical German salute, but the American version.
Several hours after the memorial service, Crittendon found himself back in the cooler. He had been thinking and remembering. In fact, he had been doing nothing but thinking as there was nothing else to do in the cooler.
Leaning with his back against the wall with his legs crossed and arms folded, the Colonel let out a deep breath. He knew he had told the truth when he spoke at the memorial service. But now Hogan was gone; dead and gone. And all because he couldn't get the tree to fall the right way and block the truck as it was suppose to.
Why do these things keep happening to me? Crittendon asked himself. Now that I think about it, it's not the first time I've messed things up somehow. But this time I killed someone. That's never happened to me before. And not just any someone; but someone I considered a friend. I say, Hogan, if you were to appear in front of me right now, I would apologize to you. But I want you to know I spoke the truth at your memorial service Hogan, old boy. You were a friend and you will be missed. It's no wonder your men wanted me out of the barracks. They can't stand having me around. I can only hope your men will see from what I said that I'm sorry for what happened. But I guess only time will tell, Hogan. Time will tell.
Kinch, Carter, LeBeau, and Newkirk were sitting around in Hogan's quarters with the door closed. LeBeau had opened a bottle of wine he had been hiding and had poured some in four glasses. After the public memorial service, the team wanted a private memorial service for themselves alone.
"It was a bloody good turnout if I do say so meself," Newkirk said.
"Yeah," Kinch agreed. "The Colonel would've been embarrassed at all the people who turned out and hearing all the things they said about him."
"I know you guys jumped on me before," Carter said quietly. "But I still say Colonel Crittendon is sorry for what happened. I really believe he didn't mean for Colonel Hogan to be killed."
LeBeau looked at the young Sergeant with an impassive face. "But it doesn't change anything as far as I am concerned. He still killed the Colonel with his actions."
"Bloody right, mate," Newkirk agreed with a hint of anger. "I agree with LeBeau, Carter. I mean, Crittendon said some nice things about the Gov'nor, but it don't change the fact that if it hadn't been for his bloody incompetence, the Colonel would still be alive."
Carter looked at Kinch. "What do you think, Kinch?" he asked.
The radioman sighed wearily. "Perhaps he is sorry for what happened. But I'm with LeBeau and Newkirk on this. If we had handled the rescue ourselves, the Colonel would still be here."
Carter shrugged his shoulders. "I know you guys are right. And while I still think he's sorry about what happened, I never said I forgave him."
"Newkirk took a sip of his wine. "Y'know, I just recalled something about the Gov'nor I wanted to say in the rec hall but I couldn't."
"What was that, mon ami?" asked LeBeau.
"Kinch, you and Carter weren't here yet. It was just me and Louie when the Colonel got here. I remember picking his pocket his first day here and removing his wallet. I wanted to see who he really was; thought he might be a spy or something. Anyway, he comes to me later and tells me he knew me bumping into him was on purpose and if I didn't give 'im back his ruddy wallet, he'd wipe up the bleedin' floor with me eyelashes."
The others found themselves chuckling at the Englander's memory.
"What about you, Louie?" Newkirk asked. "Any special memory you have of the Gov'nor?"
LeBeau thought for a long moment before he spoke. "Oui. It was also before Kinch and Carter came. It was about one month after that Colonel got here. I had received a letter from a French girl I knew who lived in London named Michelle. She had written me that she and her baby had lost their home in the bombing. She had no place to go. I was so depressed about it. I didn't know how to help her. Anyhow, the Colonel suspected something was bothering me and asked me about it, and I told him. Next thing I know, the Colonel contacts a few people and found a place with some people he knew for her and the baby to stay. I couldn't believe he did that. I asked him why did he do that for someone he didn't even know. You know what he told me? He said there was no reason. He did it because he wanted to."
"That sounds like the Colonel, boy," Carter said with a small smile.
"What about you Kinch?" asked LeBeau. "I'm sure there must be some special memory you have."
Kinch smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I do. It was shortly after I got here. It was just before you came, Carter. It involved another prisoner named Campbell."
"I remember the incident mon ami," said LeBeau with a frown.
"So do I, mate. Campbell was a right nasty bastard he was," added Newkirk.
"What happened?" asked Carter, curious.
Kinch took a sip of wine. "Campbell was a Corporal and I was a Sergeant. I was even then sort of the Colonel's second-in-command so to speak. Anyway, I was working on the radio at the time when Campbell comes into the tunnel. I asked him to give me a hand getting the radio working. He then goes off on me saying he doesn't take orders from niggers and calls me every name in the book. When I told him he'd better knock it off, he sucker-punched me."
"Wow," Carter exclaimed, incredulous. "What did you do?"
"I landed on the ground, stunned and dazed. Before I could recover my wits, Campbell grabbed me by the front of my uniform and was about to hit me again with his fist when somebody grabbed his wrist, spun him around and the next thing I heard was a fist connecting with flesh. When I looked up, I saw the Colonel standing there glaring at Campbell who was sitting on the ground rubbing his jaw. Apparently the Colonel had heard and seen everything and decked Campbell with a right cross. He told Campbell nobody speaks to his second-in-command like that and he'd better give me an apology or else. And if he even heard him say anything rude to me again he would regret it. "
"Did Campbell apologize?" asked Carter.
"He did, a bit grudgingly. Then the Colonel told him there was no place in the barracks for a racist like him. Seems Campbell had a problem with black people. Then one day, Campbell just disappeared from the camp. When I asked Colonel Hogan about it, all he would tell me is that he had taken care of the problem. He wouldn't say anything else." Kinch then chuckled. "I found out much later that the Colonel had him sent to London and told Klink that Campbell had been a spy for the Gestapo who had been sent to spy on him and report on his loyalty."
"And believe me, it couldn't happen to a nicer guy," Newkirk replied referring to Campbell. He then looked at his best friend. "How about you, Andrew?"
Carter shrugged. "I know I haven't been here as long as you guys, but I think my fondest memory of Colonel Hogan is shortly after I first came here and he had me make my first explosive device for a mission. I was a nervous wreck. Didn't think I could do what he wanted."
"I remember that," Kinch replied. "I never saw anybody as scared as you were."
"Scared? Try terrified. Anyhow, I told the Colonel I couldn't do it. I didn't believe I could do it. He took me under his wing as I said earlier, and he told me he had enough faith in him for the both of us, and he believed I could do it. He kept telling me every opportunity he had that he had faith in me. Never let me doubt myself. And sure enough, I was able to make that explosive device with no problem."
"Y'know something, gentlemen…" Newkirk began. "…we owe Colonel Hogan more than any of us ever realized. I mean, sure he's been our Senior POW officer and all, but when you stop to think about it, he's been just as much of a friend as a commanding officer. He made us what we are today and taught us everything we know today."
"Oui," LeBeau agreed. "Before he came, we only had a couple of tunnels and really no kind or organization. But once he took over the traveller's aid society as the Colonel liked to call it took off."
Newkirk got to his feet and the others followed his example. They held up their glasses of wine.
"Here's to you, Colonel," Newkirk said. "To a fine officer, a great man, and a good friend. Not only will you be missed, sir, but we'll never forget you." The Englander's speech was followed by four glasses being clinked.
